#'^i!i;ti!ll)!!!l!l!i!illll!ii!!llilll!iiilil!iiiii!i!!li!|l!i!li^ 


H 


BR  525  .05  1846 

The  old  white  meetinghouse; 
or.  Reminiscences  of  a 


-  i 


J,     M   /7^^.i^U^4^^ 


THE 


y 

OLD  WHITE  MEETINGHOUSE; 


OR, 


REMINISCENCES 


OF   A 


COUNTRY   CONGREGATION. 


"  At  church,  with  meek  and  unaffected  grace, 
His  looks  adorned  the  venerable  place  ; 
Truth  from  his  lips  prevailed  with  double  sway, 
And  fools,  who  came  to  scoff,  remained  to  pray." 

Goldsmith. 


SECOND     EDITION. 

NEW   YORK: 
ROBERT  CARTER,  58  CANAL  STREET, 

AND  PITTSBURG,  56  MARKET  STREET. 
1846.       , 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846, 

By   ROBERT    CARTER, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States, 

in  and  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


Stereotyped  by  Redfield  &  Savage, 
13  Chambers  street,  N.  Y. 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE. 


The  following  pages  are  the  records  of 
truth.  They  are  given  to  the  public  with 
a  good  motive,  and  the  reader  will  find 
that  "still  life"  in  the  country,  may  furnish 
scenes  of  interest  as  intense  and  stirring  as 
the  realms  of  fiction. 

The  writer  has  aimed  at  doing  good  by 
these  sketches.  Evils  in  country  congre- 
gations, more  or  less  common  to  all,  he 
has  rebuked  with  an  unsparing  hand ;  while 
in  the  good  pastor  and  many  of  his  flock, 
there  are  bright  examples  of  faith  and 
works,  that  he  has  loved  to  portray  for  the 
admiration  and  imitation  of  those  who  may 


INTEODUCTORT    NOTE. 


contemplate  them.  If  the  characters  here 
described  are  recognised,  the  writer  trusts 
to  the  good  sense  of  the  people,  to  pardon 
him  for  the  liberty  he  has  taken  with  those 
whose  Mildness  he  remembers  with  grati- 
tude, and  whose  faces  he  can  never  forget. 
New  York,  March  26,  1846. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.                      PAGE. 
The  Old  "White  Meetinghouse 7 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Old  Graveyard 19 

CHAPTER  III. 
«  Our  Minister" 29 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  People — Scenes  in  the  Church — Elder  But- 
ler— Mrs.  Burtis  and  her  Child — Elder  Van 
Slate— Mrs  Sniffle 50 

CHAPTER  V. 
Our  Singing-Schools — Dancing-Schools 73 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Old-Fashioned  Revivals— The  Ball— The  Horse- 
race   99 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Spinning-Bees — Apple-Parings — Weddings 128 

J* 


6  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VIII.                   PAGE. 
The  Secret  Disciple 155 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Forger 169 

CHAPTER  X. 
The  First  Grief— Taking  it  easy 183 

CHAPTER  XL 
Richard  Rogers's  First  Sermon 194 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Dismissal  of  "  Our  Minister" 209 


REMINISCENCES 


COUNTRY  CONGREGATION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY    SCENES   AND    IMPRESSIONS  —  THE    OLD 
WHITE   MEETING-HOUSE. 

Driven  about  for  many  and  weary  years 
on  the  world's  wide  sea,  I  have  at  last  made 
harbor  here  in  this  goodly  city  of  Gotham, 
better  known  as  New  York.  But  my  heart 
turns  often  and  fondly  to  that  spot  away 
up  in  the  country,  where  my  boyhood  and 
youth  were  passed,  where  those  dear  to  me 
are  buried,  where  I  first  learned  to  read  and 
to  pray,  where  I  thought  to  live  and  to  die. 

It  was  in  the  old  town  of ,  in  the 

state  of ,  and  those  who  know  not 


8  THE    OLD    WHITE    MEETINGHOUSE. 

the  geography  of  that  part  of  the  world, 
must  be  told  that  the  town  is  a  wide,  fertile 
plain,  some  ten  or  twelve  miles  across,  cir- 
cled with  hills,  watered  by  lovely  and  gentle 
streams,  and  peopled  by  a  set  of  independ- 
ent farmers,  who  are  well  to  do  for  this 
world,  and  the  most  of  them  have  been  wise 
enough  to  make  provision  for  the  world  to 
come. 

It  was  in  this  town  that  I  had  my  "bring- 
ing up,"  such  as  it  was  ;  this  was  the  scene 
of  a  thousand  youthful  adventures  in  school- 
boy days,  and  of  a  thousand  incidents  of 
social  and  domestic  life,  that  now  come 
back  to  the  call  of  memory,  like  the  spirits 
of  those  we  have  loved,  pleasant  to  meet 
again,  but  mournful  as  the  truth  comes  with 
them  that  they  are  gone  to  return  no  more. 

But  there  is  little  that  is  mournful  to  the 
reader  in  these  sketches.  He  shall  find 
nothing  but  pleasure  in  the  reminiscences, 
and  as  I  tell  him  of  the  "Old  White  Meet- 
inghouse," and  the  "  Minister  and  his  Fam- 
ily," and  the  "Elders  and  Deacons,"  and 


THE    OLD    WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE.  9 

"A  few  of  the  Neighbors,"  and  then  go 
abroad  in  the  congregation,  and  speak  of 
the  habits  of  the  people,  their  business  and 
amusements,  and  enter  into  their  church 
matters,  and  mention  the  quarrel  they  had 
about  the  old  minister,  how  they  all  loved 
him  till  one  of  them  took  offence  at  the 
truth  and  stirred  up  strife  and  drove  him 
away,  how  they  quarrelled  about  a  new 
minister,  and  how  they  have  prospered  since 
— as  I  go  over  all  these,  and  fifty  other 
things,  which  these  will  suggest  as  we  go 
along,  the  reader  will  not  be  tempted  to  the 
melancholy  mood.  We  will  keep  clear  of 
that,  though  we  speak  of  serious  things  in  a 
serious  way. 

I  could  spend  some  time  in  describing 
*'our  house,"  and  the  things  in  and  around 
it,  and  it  might  not  be  out  of  the  way  to  do 
so,  as  the  natural  course  to  matters  of  more 
public  interest.  There  was  a  stream  close 
by  the  door  that  was  my  resort  in  the  trout 
season,  and  there  was  a  grove  of  pines  but 
a  short  distance  off,  into  which  I  often  in 


10  THE   OLD   WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE. 

childhood  wandered  alone,  and  long  before 
I  ever  heard  of  Coleridge,  or  his  hymn  in 
the  Vale  of  Chamouni  where  he  says, 

"  Ye  pine  groves,  with  your  soft  aud  soul-like  sounds," 

I  had  loved  to  sit  down  on  the  moss,  and 
listen  to  the  spirit-melody  of  the  still  air 
among  the  tree-tops  :  sighing  to  my  soul, 
and  saddening,  I  could  not  tell  why,  my 
young  heart.  There  I  used  to  think  of 
communing  with  God  and  the  spirits  of  the 
good  in  heaven,  and  in  the  solemn  twilight 
of  those  deep  shades,  I  had  thoughts  of 
loving  and  serving  God  which  are  now 
working  themselves  out  in  life's  struggles, 
and  will  never  be  fully  answered,  till  He  who 
called  me  then,  shall  call  me  to  himself. 
Then  there  was  the  old  schoolhouse,  and 
a  hard  set  of  boys,  and  I  might  spend  an 
hour  or  a  week  in  making  chronicles  of  the 
first  dozen  of  them  that  now  leap  up  before 
the  mind's  eye,  like  young  tigers,  begging 
me  to  draw  their  portraits,  and  send  them 
down  the  stream  of  time  with  these  rough 


THE   OLD   WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE.  11 

sketches.  But  the  boys  must  wait.  We 
have  no  room  for  them.  Some  of  them 
will  come  in  by  the  way,  and  we  shall  here 
and  there  set  up  a  stone  to  the  memory  of 
some  poor  fellow,  at  whose  fate  we  drop  a 
passing  tear.  It  is  the  religious  life  of  the 
people  that  I  want  to  bring  out  for  the  en- 
tertainment and  instruction  of  those  who 
may  read,  and  unless  I  greatly  mistake,  the 
history  will  not  be  without  its  uses,  although 
I  feel  full  well  that  it  will  suffer  much  from 
the  insufficiency  of  him  who  has  ventured 
to  be  the  historian. 

"The  Old  White  Meetinghouse." 
— So  it  was  called,  and  by  this  name  it  was 
known  all  over  the  country.  Not  but  that 
there  were  other  white  meetinghouses  in 
that  region,  but  this  was  by  way  of  eminence 
the  White  Meetinghouse,  as  the  largest, 
and  oldest,  and  most  respectable,  and  when 
a  political  meeting,  or  general  training,  or 
a  show,  was  to  be  held  at  the  tavern  oppo- 
site, the  notice  was  given  that  the  gathering 
was   to   be   at  the   White    Meetinghouse 


12  THE   OLD   WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE. 

corners,  and  everybody  for  a  dozen  miles 
around,  knew  at  once  where  it  was  to  be. 

It  was  a  large  square  building,  with  a 
steeple  whose  lofty  spire  gave  me  my  first 
and  strongest  impressions  of  *'  amazing 
height ;"  and  now  as  I  look  at  '*  Trinity" 
here  in  Broadway,  and  the  men  dwindled 
into  dwarfs  on  its  all  but  "  cloud-capt 
towers,"  it  does  not  look  half  as  tall  as  that 
steeple,  with  ?ijish  for  a  weather-cock^  wheel- 
ing in  the  breeze.  How  often  have  I  lain 
on  "  the  green"  in  front  of  that  church,  and 
wondered  how  in  the  world  they  ever  got 
that  fish  away  up  there ;  or  who  hitched 
the  lightning  rod  to  that  spire,  and  how  any 
one  ever  dared  to  shingle  the  roof  of  that 
awful  steeple  almost  to  the  very  summit. 
And  sometimes  in  the  night  when  I  had 
"bad  dreams,"  I  fancied  that  I  was  clasping 
that  steeple  in  my  little  arms,  and  sliding 
slowly  down,  the  steeple  widening,  and  ray 
hold  relaxing,  till  at  length  down  I  came, 
down,  down,  and  just  as  1  was  to  strike  the 
ground,  I  would  wake  in  terror,  and  be 


THE   OLD   WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE.  13 

afraid  to  go  to  sleep  again,  lest  I  should  re- 
peat that  terrible  slide. 

The  church  had  square  pews,  with  high 
partitions  and  sash-work  between,  which 
were  great  inlets  of  amusement  to  the  chil- 
dren who  would  be  always  thrusting  their 
arms  through,  and  sometimes  their  heads, 
in  the  midst  of  sermon,  but  more  particular- 
ly in  prayer-time,  for  then  they  were  more 
likely  to  escape  observation.  These  square 
pews  the  minister  always  was  free  to  say  he 
regarded  as  an  invention  of  the  devil,  and 
there  was  some  reason  to  beheve  that  the 
devil  had  the  right  to  a  patent.  As  half  of 
the  congregation  must  sit  with  their  backs 
to  the  preacher,  it  was  customary  for  the 
parents  to  place  the  children  in  this  position, 
and  it  is  easy  to  see  that  thus  situated,  it 
would  be  next  to  impossible  to  secure  their 
attention  to  the  services  of  the  sanctuary. 
Of  course  the  devil  would  be  pleased  with 
an  arrangement  which  so  effectually  pre- 
vents the  young  from  becoming  interested 
in  divine  truth,  and  I  do  not  therefore  won- 
2 


14  THE    OLD    WHITE    MEETINGHOUSE. 

der  at  the  good  minister's  notice  of  the  origin 
of  the  plan. 

The  pulpit  was  like  unto  an  immense 
barrel  supported  on  a  single  post.  Its  in- 
terior was  gained  by  a  lofty  flight  of  steps, 
and  the  preacher  once  in  possession,  had 
certainly  a  most  commanding  position.  I 
can  recollect  often  thinking  how  easy  it 
would  be  with  a  saw  to  cut  away  the  pillar 
on  which  this  old  pulpit  tottered,  and  then 
what  a  tremendous  crash  it  would  make, 
coming  down  with  the  minister  in  it.  And 
this  reminds  me  of  one  of  the  minister's 
boys,  an  arch  rogue,  about  five  years  old, 
who  was  so  much  in  the  habit  of  misbe- 
having in  meeting,  that  he  had  to  be  punish- 
ed often  and  soundly  but  with  no  sanative 
consequences.  His  father  threatened  fre- 
quently to  take  him  into  the  pulpit  with  him 
if  he  did  not  behave  better,  but  the  young- 
ster never  believed  that  he  was  serious  in 
the  threat,  or  if  he  was,  Dick  had  a  very 
natural  idea  that  there  was  as  much  chance 
for  fun  in  the  pulpit  behind  his  father's  back, 


THE   OLD  WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE.  15 

as  there  was  in  the  pew  before  him.     At 
length  the  pastor  was  as  good  as  his  word, 
and  one  Sunday  morning,  to  the  surprise 
of  the  people,  he  led  his  roguish  boy  up 
into   the  pulpit,  and  proceeded    with   the 
service.     Richard  began  to  be  uneasy,  but 
remained  comfortably  quiet  until  the  long 
prayer  began  ;  then  he  fidgeted  up  on  the 
seat,  and  peaked  over  upon  the  congrega- 
tion below ;  and,  finally  as  a  sudden  thought 
struck  him,  he  threw  one  leg  over  the  pul- 
pit, and  there  sat  astride  of  the  sacred  desk, 
drumming  with  his   litde  heels   upon  the 
boards.     The  good  pastor  was  at  prayer, 
and  could  not  turn  aside  to  dismount  his 
hopeful  boy,  but  between  his  fears  that  the 
child  should  fall,  and  the  indications  of 
mirth  among  the  young  folks  in  the  church, 
the  minister  had  more  than  he  could  do  to 
keep  his  thoughts  on  the  service,  and  he 
therefore  speedily  brought  his  petitions  to  a 
close,  and  seized  the  youthful  Richard  in 
the  midst  of  his  ride.     We  never  saw  Dick 
in  the  pulpit  again,  and  a  marked  improve- 


16  THE   OLD   WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE. 

ment  in  his  manners  gave  us  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  certain  domestic  appUances  were 
resorted  to,  which  have  the  recommendation 
of  the  wisest  of  men,  as  useful  in  cases  of 
this  desperate  nature. 

The  old  church  was  the  haunt  of  swallows 
that  built  their  nests  under  its  caves ;  and  it 
was  no  unusual  thing  for  one  of  those  swift- 
winged  birds  to  dart  into  the  open  window 
on  a  summer  sabbath,  and  by  some  strange 
perversity,  to  persist  in  flying  everywhere 
but  out  of  the  window  again,  till  wearied 
with  flying  to  and  fro  it  would  light  on  the 
sounding-board  over  the  minister's  head. 
These  gyrations  were  quite  an  amusement 
to  the  children,  and  I  remember  that  on  one 
of  these  occasions,  the  same  young  Richard, 
who  has  already  been  introduced,  thought 
he  had  hit  upon  something  smart  when  he 
turned  up  the  84th  psalm  in  Watts : — 

"  And  wandering  swallows  long 
To  find  their  wonted  rest." 

But  that  pulpit  or  that  house  was  no  place 
for  mirth.     Never  in  all  the  wanderings  of 


THE   OLD   WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE.  17 

after-life,  in  splendid  temples,  where  the 
wealth  of  princes  has  been  lavished,  to  make 
honorable  the  house  of  God,  where  the 
stained  windows  shed  dim  religious  light 
over  the  solemn  courts,  and  the  great  organ 
poured  its  deep  thunders  on  the  ear,  never 
there,  or  elsewhere,  have  I  seen  or  heard 
so  much  of  God  as  in  that  old  white  meeting- 
house. It  was  a  plain  house,  it  is  true. 
Except  the  pulpit  and  the  front  of  the  galle- 
ry, the  whole  interior  was  innocent  of  paint, 
and  the  bare  floor  rung  under  the  heavy 
tread  of  the  substantial  farmers  as  they  came 
up  the  narrow  aisles,  with  their  horsewhips 
in  their  hands :  and  they  were  a  plain  people 
in  that  church ;  some  of  them  in  hot  weather 
sat  with  their  coats  off,  and  some  stood  up 
in  sermon-time  when  they  became  drowsy 
by  sitting ;  it  was  all  the  plainness  of  a 
country  congregation  in  a  country  meeting- 
house ;  but  God  was  there,  I  have  heard 
him  in  his  preached  word,  when  the  strong 
truths  of  the  gospel  were  poured  with  ener- 
gy from  that  sacred  desk,  not  in  enticing 
2* 


18  THE   OLD   WHITE   MEETINGHOUSE. 

words  of  man's  wisdom,  but  with  the  dem- 
onstration of  the  Spirit  and  with  power. 
I  have  felt  him  when  the  Holy  Ghost  has 
come  down  on  the  congregation  as  on  the 
day  of  Pentecost,  and  strong  men  have 
bowed  themselves  under  the  mighty  in- 
fluence of  subduing  grace. 

But  all  these  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
speak  of  hereafter,  when  the  minister  and 
his  preaching  and  its  fruits  come  up  in  re- 
view. 


THE   OLD   GRAVEYARD.  19 


CHAPTER  11. 


THE   OLD    GRAVEYARD. 


In  the  rear  of  the  meetinghouse  was  the 
graveyard,  and  all  my  early  recollections  of 
death  and  the  grave,  are  associated  with 
that  quiet  and  solemn  spot.  It  was  a  large 
enclosure  which  had  never  been  laid  off  in 
"  lots  to  suit  purchasers,"  but  a  decent  in- 
terval was  left  between  families,  and  all 
came  there  on  common  ground.  A  few 
pines  of  a  large  growth  were  scattered  in 
it,  and  with  the  exception  of  here  and  there 
a  rose-bush,  the  place  was  unadorned.  But 
it  had  attractions.  For  every  sabbath-day, 
during  the  interval  of  divine  worship,  the 
people  from  a  distance,  who  remained  at 
church,  "  bringing  their  dinner'**  with  them, 
were  in  the  habit  of  walking  among  the 


20  THE    OLD   GRAVEYARD. 

tombs,  meditating  upon  themes  suggested 
by  the  inscriptions  they  read  upon  the  head- 
stones, and  speaking  to  one  another  of  the 
virtues  of  those  whom  when  living  they 
had  known  and  loved.  And  often  of 
a  summer  sabbath  evening,  the  young 
people  would  stroll  into  the  yard,  the  gate 
of  which  was  always  left  open  on  the  sab- 
bath, and  at  such  time  there  was  never 
heard  the  slightest  indication  of  levity  or 
irreverence  for  the  holy  day. 

But  observance  of  the  sabbath  was  a 
strongly-marked  feature  of  that  place  and 
people.  A  simple  fact  will  show  the  state 
of  public  opinion  on  this  subject.  On  one 
occasion,  several  young  men,  chiefly  from 
some  mechanical  establishments  lately  set 
up  in  the  neighborhood,  not  having  the  fear 
of  God  or  the  laws  of  man  before  their 
eyes,  made  up  a  party  and  went  off  to  the 
mountains  to  pick  whortleberries.  The 
minister  and  a  few  of  the  good  men  held  a 
consultation,  and  it  was  determined  to  put 
the  statute  of  the  state  into  execution  and 


THE   OLD   GEAVETARD.  21 

make  an  example  of  them,  to  prevent  the 
pernicious  influences  which  might  result  to 
the  whole  community,  if  such  a  flagrant 
breach  of  morals  were  suffered  to  go  un- 
punished. Accordingly  the  whole  party 
were  arrested,  brought  before  'Squire  Jones, 
and  fined  one  dollar  each.  There  was  no 
help  for  them,  and  they  paid  the  fine  ;  but 
they  watched  the  opportunity  for  revenge. 
And  it  soon  came  in  a  small  way,  for  on  the 
next  sabbath  afternoon  they  saw  the 'squire's 
daughter,  a  fine  girl  of  seventeen,  in  the 
garden  picking  a  few  currants,  and  they 
complained  of  her  to  her  own  father,  had 
her  arrested,  and  the  fact  being  too  clearly 
established  by  proof  to  admit  of  any  evasion, 
the  'squire  was  compelled  to  impose  the 
fine  and  pay  it  himself!  This  was  quite  a 
triumph  for  these  low  fellows,  who,  how- 
ever, were  very  careful  not  to  go  after 
whortleberries  on  the  sabbath  again.  But 
this  is  wandering  out  of  the  old  graveyard. 
There  was  a  simple  beauty  and  solemnity 
in  those  country  funerals  that  I  have  not  ob- 


THE   OLD   GRAVEYARD. 


served  for  years.  A  death  in  the  country 
is  a  widely-different  event  in  its  relations 
and  effects,  from  one  in  the  city.  The 
other  day  I  observed  an  unusual  gathering 
at  the  house  of  my  next-door  neighbor,  a 
man  whom  I  had  never  known  even  by 
sight.  Presently  a  hearse  stood  in  front  of 
the  house,  and  I  soon  learned  that  it  had 
come  to  take  away  the  body  of  my  neighbor 
to  his  burial.  It  was  sad  to  think  of,  that 
I  could  have  been  living  with  only  a  thin 
wall  between  me  and  a  brother-man,  who 
had  been  for  weeks  struggling  with  disease, 
and  who  had  finally  sunk  into  the  arms  of 
death,  while  I  had  never  even  felt  the  ten- 
derness of  sympathy  with  him  or  his,  in  the 
days  and  nights  of  suffering  and  sorrow 
which  they  had  known.  Yet  so  it  is  in  this 
city.  Your  nearest  neighbors  are  utter 
strangers,  and  may  sicken  and  die  and  be 
buried,  and  you  will  know  nothing  of  it, 
unless  you  happen  to  be  at  home  when  the 
hearse  comes  or  goes.  It  is  not  so  in  the 
country.     There  in  L ,  when  one  was 


THE   OLD   GRAVEYARD.  23 

sick  all  the  neighbors  knew  it  and  felt  it ; 
kindness,  like  balm,  fell  on  the  heart  of  the 
sufferer  from  every  family  near,  and  when 
death  came,  solemnity  was  on  every  heart. 
All  the  countryside,  from  far  and  near, 
without  being  invited,  came  to  the  funeral, 
and  filled  the  house  and  the  door-yard,  and 
when  the  services  were  concluded,  the 
coffin  was  brought  out  in  front  of  the  house, 
and  the  multitude  were  permitted  to  take  a 
farewell  look  of  the  departed.  Then  the 
remains  were  borne  away  to  the  grave,  fol- 
lowed by  a  long  train,  not  of  hired  car- 
riages, but  of  plain  wagons  filled  with  sym- 
pathizing friends,  and  the  procession  moved 
on  slowly  and  silently,  often  many  miles, 
to  the  place  of  burial.  As  it  reached  the 
yard,  those  who  lived  near,  would  drop  in 
and  join  the  crowd  that  was  now  gathering 
at  the  open  grave,  and  the  children  of  the 
neighborhood,  especially,  were  sure  to  be 
present  at  such  times.  Frequently  have  I 
been  deeply  moved  by  the  scenes  around 
those  graves — for  there  in  the  country,  na- 


24  THE  OLD   GRAVEYARD. 

ture  revealed  itself  in  its  simple  power — 
and  the  deep  but  half-stifled  groan  that  has 
come  to  my  soul  when  the  first  clods  fell 
on  the  coffin,  was  as  if  they  fell  on  the 
warm  breast  of  a  sleeping  friend.  We  see 
no  such  funerals  here  in  this  great  city — 
itself  a  mighty  charnel-house.  We  take 
our  dead  to  the  narrow  cemetery,  and  for 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  purchase  the  privilege 
of  putting  the  precious  dust  into  a  great 
cellar.  Some  time  ago,  a  friend  of  mine 
wanted  to  remove  the  ashes  of  his  wife  from 
one  of  these  receptacles,  and  he  applied  to 
the  keeper  for  that  purpose ;  the  man  ob- 
jected on  account  of  the  time  that  would  be 
consumed  in  the  undertaking;  my  friend 
offered  to  defray  all  the  expenses,  and  re- 
ward him  liberally  besides,  but  it  was  of  no 
avail ;  and  he  was  finally  told  that  it  would 
be  impossible  ever  to  find  or  recover  the 
remains.  These  are  city  burials.  Rural 
cemeteries  are  now  becoming  more y^5/«*07i- 
ahle(!)  in  the  neighborhood  of  cities.  Let 
them  be  encouraged.     Dust  we  are,  and 


THE   OLD   GRAVEYARD.  25 

when  we  die  let  us  go  back  to  our  mother's 
bosom  and  rest  there  till  mortal  puts  on  im- 
mortality. 

This  last  thought  reminds  me  of  the 
great  excitement  which  once  pervaded  the 
community  when  it  was  reported  that  a 
grave  had  been  violated  in  that  peaceful 
yard,  and  the  lifeless  tenant  carried  off  by 
the  doctors.  The  appearance  of  the  grave 
led  to  suspicion  that  there  had  been  foul 
play.  It  was  examined,  and  the  suspicions 
were  found  to  be  too  true.  The  body  of 
a  girl  some  fourteen  years  of  age,  of  re- 
spectable family,  had  been  stolen  from  the 
sepulchre  to  be  cut  up  and  made  into  a 
"  'natomy,"  as  the  people  expressed  it. 
The  whole  town  was  aghast.  Such  an  out- 
rage had  never  been  heard  of  in  that  part 
of  the  world,  and  the  good  people  could 
scarcely  believe  that  such  monsters  lived, 
as  men  who  dig  up  corpses  to  hack  them 
in  pieces.  They  met  in  righteous  indigna- 
tion, and  appointed  a  committee  of  inves- 
tigation, who  never  rested  till  they  got  upon 
3 


26  THE   OLD   GEAVETARD. 

the  trail  of  the  hyenas ;  they  never  rested 
till  the  perpetrator  of  the  deed  was  in  pris- 
on, and  the  instigator — Dr. ,  who  es- 
caped by  some  flaw  in  the  indictment — 
was  compelled  to  remove  from  the  town. 

These  events  naturally  led  to  great  ap- 
prehensions respecting  other  graves,  and 
many  were  searched  by  anxious  friends, 
who  now  watched  the  tombs  with  more 
vigilance  than  did  the  guards  set  over  the 
holy  sepulchre.  The  impression  became 
very  strong  that  a  certain  grave  had  been 
robbed.  It  was  the  grave  of  a  lovely  wo- 
man, the  wife  of  a  drunkard ;  and  the  fact 
that  he  was  dead  to  all  feeling,  and  conse- 
quently would  not  be  likely  to  care  what 
became  of  the  body  of  his  wife,  seemed  to 
confirm  the  grounds  of  suspicion,  and 
finally  it  was  determined  to  make  the  exam- 
ination. It  was  the  afternoon  of  a  warm 
day  in  the  midst  of  summer,  when  I,  a  mere 
child  then,  was  attracted  into  the  yard  by 
seeing  a  number  of  men  around  a  grave.  I 
soon  learned  what  was  going  on,  and  creep- 


THE    OLD   GRAVEYARD.  27 

ing  between  the  feet  of  those  who  were 
standing  nearest,  I  was  soon  immediately 
over  the  head  of  the  grave  which  they  had 
now  opened  down  to  the  coffin.  Having 
cleared  off  the  earth  and  started  the  fasten- 
ings of  the  Hd,  which  were  all  found  se- 
cure, they  raised  it,  and  the  full  light  of  the 
sun  flowed  upon  the  most  horrid  spectacle 
which  my  e^es  before  or  since  have  seen  ; — 

"  Corruption,  earth,  and  worms,"  were  there. 

I  waited  not  for  a  second  look,  but  ran 
from  the  spot  in  awful  terror,  and  have, 
from  that  time,  had  an  image  of  "  death's 
doings,"  which  I  never  could  have  obtained 
but  for  the  loathsome  revelations  of  that 
graveyard  scene. 

These  are  not  the  things  that  I  intended 
to  record  of  that  hallowed  spot.  Yet  they 
are,  perhaps,  among  the  most  vivid  impres- 
sions that  I  retain  of  it ;  unless  it  be  my 
fears  to  pass  it  alone  after  dark !  And  I 
should  as  soon  have  thought  of  setting  fire 
to  the  church,  as  of  iilaying  within  the  en- 


28  THE   OLD   GRAVEYARD. 

closure.  I  looked  upon  it  with  reverential 
awe  as  *'  God's  acre  ;"  and  I  wish  with  all 
my  heart  that  the  feeling  of  regard  for  sa- 
cred places,  and  times,  and  things,  which 
we  felt  in  our  childhood,  might  return.  It 
had  its  faults  and  its  weaknesses,  but  they 
were  better  than  the  care-for-nothing,  dare- 
devil spirit  of  the  rising  generation  now-a- 
days.  But  I  shall  have  mo^e  to  say  of 
this  hereafter. 


"OUR   MINISTER."  29 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  OUR   MINISTER." 

*'  We  never  shall  see  him  more,"  I  know 
very  well — too  well ;  and  it  is  a  matter  of 
great  doubt  with  me  whether  we  shall  ever 
see  the  like  of  him  again.  Yet  there  were 
no  eccentricities  of  character,  natural  or 
artificial,  by  which  he  was  made  to  differ 
from  the  men  of  his  own  times  or  the  men 
of  our  times,  and  which  are  now  to  be  re- 
corded for  the  amusement  and  not  the  in- 
struction of  others.  There  have  been  such 
men,  and  when  we  are  reading  their  oddi- 
ties, it  is  very  easy  to  believe  that  if  you 
take  away  the  oddities  of  the  man,  there 
would  be  little  or  nothing  left.  The  use- 
fulness of  such  men  is  often  looked  at  as 
proof  that  their  eccentricities  were  real  vir- 
3* 


30  "  OUE   MINISTER." 

tues,  and  not  blemishes  upon  their  charac- 
ters ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  the  opinion  that 
they  were  usually  useful  in  spite  of  their 
peculiarities,  and  would  have  been  far  more 
so,  if  they  had  been  as  other  men,  and 
without  those  "  bonds." 

Our  minister,  the  excellent  Mr.  Rogers, 
had  no  one  singularity  of  which  I  can  now 
think,  and  if  the  reader  jumps  to  the  con- 
clusion that  he  was  therefore  a  moderate, 
every-day  sort  of  man,  not  worth  knowing 
about,  he  must  even  skip  the  description, 
and  go  on  to  something  more  to  his  taste. 

That  I  always  looked  tip  to  Mr.  Rogers 
with  such  a  reverential  awe  as  the  present 
degenerate  age  knows  very  little  of,  is  very 
likely ;  and  it  may  be  that  if  he  had  lived 
in  this  day,  when  all  ministers  are  so  good 
or  all  children  so  much  more  advanced 
than  they  were  thirty  years  ago,  perhaps  he 
would  not  stand  out  before  the  world  with 
so  bold  a  prominence  as  he  did  in  my  eyes, 
when  he  walked  slowly  but  modestly  up 
the  aisle,  and  chmbed  the  lofty  pulpit.     1 


"  OUR   MINISTER."  31 

thought  he  was  the  holiest  man  in  the 
world ;  he  seemed  awful  holy !  I  have 
never  had  the  least  reason  to  suppose  that 
I  was  mistaken  in  those  notions  about  him, 
yet  much  allowance  may  doubtless  be 
made  for  a  child's  reverence  for  his  pastor, 
in  days  now  gone,  to  come  back  never,  I 
sadly  fear. 

He  was  thirty-five  or  forty  years  of  age 
when  I  was  five  or  six,  and  consequently 
he  was  always  an  old  man  in  my  eyes  ;  and 
I  have  no  other  recollections  of  him  than 
those  associated  with  the  deepest  reverence. 
That  he  ever  sinned,  I  never  supposed ; 
and  if  any  one  had  mentioned  anything  to 
his  disadvantage  in  my  hearing,  it  would 
have  shocked  me  very  much,  as  it  would 
now  to  hear  of  a  peccadillo  in  an  angel. 
This  is  no  place,  and  I  have  no  time,  to 
go  into  the  reasons  of  the  change  in  the 
sentiment  of  children  respecting  their  min- 
ister, but,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  I 
wish  that  the  good  old  times  of  Edwards 
would  come  back  again,  or  if  that  is  wish- 


32  "OtJR   MINISTER." 

ing  too  much,  the  times  when  I  was  a  boy ! 
Those  were  good  times  compared  with 
these,  though  I  have  no  hope  to  convince 
the  young  of  it. 

He  had  an  extraordinary  voice,  that  is  a 
fact.  Perhaps  this  ought  to  be  written 
down  as  a  singularity.  It  rings  this  mo- 
ment in  my  ears  just  as  it  did  thirty  years 
ago,  and  not  with  the  most  pleasant  music, 
for  it  was  harsh  and  strong,  and  when  he 
was  roused  by  the  great  theme  of  pulpit 
discourse,  the  gospel  would  come  down  in 
such  torrents  of  overwhelming  sound,  that 
it  sometimes  seemed  to  me  the  people  must 
be  carried  by  storm.  Yet  was  he  far  from 
being  a  violent  preacher.  He  had  too 
much  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  in 
his  soul  to  say  hard  things  in  a  hard  way, 
but  the  power  of  which  I  speak  was  the 
voice  of  a  mighty  man  on  the  mightiest 
theme  that  ever  employed  the  lips  of  man, 
and  how  could  he  be  otherwise  than 
overpowering?  At  times  his  voice  was 
terrible !      That  is  to  say,  when  he  sud- 


"  OUR   MINISTER."  33 

denly  raised  it  in  a  tone  of  command,  he 
would  start  every  dull  soul  in  that  assembly 
as  if  a  thunderbolt  had  hit  the  old  white 
meetinghouse  in  the  middle  of  the  sermon. 
I  remember  one  sabbath,  when  the  congre- 
gation was  unusually  silent  and  solemn,  a 
half-crazy  man,  but  more  mischievous  than 
mad,  rose  in  the  gallery  and  commenced 
making  various  gesticulations  to  amuse  the 
young  people,  who  sat  in  that  part  of  the 
house.  The  congregation  below  did  not 
know  that  anything  was  going  on,  but  the 
minister  saw  it  in  a  moment ;  and  to  try 
gentle  means  at  first,  he  made  a  sign  to  the 
man  to  sit  down  and  be  still.  Wilson  kept 
his  fun  in  operation  till  the  forbearance  of 
good  Mr.  Rogers  was  quite  spent,  and 
looking  sternly  at  him,  he  thundered  out, 
^^  Mr.  Wilson,  sit  down,  sir  P^  The  man 
fell  back  in  his  seat  as  though  a  bludgeon 
had  smote  him,  and  never  raised  his  head 
during  the  service.  He  called  the  next 
day  on  Mr.  Rogers  and  made  an  apology, 
and  sealed  it  by  sending  him  a  load  of 


34  "OUR   MINISTER."  * 

wood.  But  it  was  the  effect  of  his  voice 
upon  the  congregation  of  which  I  was 
speaking.  If  the  roof  had  fallen  in,  the 
people  would  scarcely  have  been  more 
startled  than  by  this  pastoral  explosion. 
Every  heart  trembled,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  the  children  could  get  their 
breath.  Yet  there  was  no  sign  of  impa- 
tience or  any  other  unholy  passion  in  the 
sudden  blow  of  his  voice,  by  which  the 
worthy  minister  had  lain  low  his  disorderly 
auditor ;  but  there  was  majesty  and  power 
in  those  tremendous  tones,  which  carried 
conviction  to  every  conscience,  that  Mr. 
Rogers  was  not  a  man  to  be  trifled  with, 
and  that,  standing  in  God's  name  and 
house,  he  would  teach  every  man  to  keep 
in  his  place. 

And  here  it  is  m  order  to  speak  of  the 
authority  which  Mr.  Rogers  wielded  in  that 
congregation.  It  was  the  heautij  of  j^ower. 
It  was  right  that  he  should  rule  in  the 
church,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  church 
and  the  word  of  God;  but  his  rule  was 


"OUK   MINISTER."  35 

that  of  love,  so  kindly,  yet  firmly  dispensed, 
that  no  man  thought  of  quarrelling  with  it, 
who  did  not  also  war  against  divine  author- 
ity. The  pastor  was  the  pastor.  As  shep- 
herd of  the  flock,  it  was  his  office  to  watch 
over  them  and  keep  them,  as  far  as  in  him 
lay,  from  wandering  into  dangerous  ways, 
and  from  the  covert  or  open  assaults  of  en- 
emies who  go  about,  like  their  master,  the 
devil,  seeking  whom  they  may  devour. 
And  when  any  one,  or  any  dozen  of  the 
sJieej)  took  it  into  their  heads  that  they 
knew  more  about  the  proper  mode  of  man- 
aging the  flock  than  the  shepherd  whom  the 
Lord  had  sent  to  tend  them,  they  soon 
found  that  they  had  mistaken  their  calling, 
and  would  consult  their  happiness  and  use- 
fulness by  quietly  minding  their  own  busi- 
ness. Now  you  would  not  do  Mr.  Rogers 
exact  justice,  if  the  inference  should  be 
drawn  from  this  fact  that  he  was  regardless 
of  the  wishes  of  his  people,  or  kept  them 
at  a  distance,  when  they  wished  to  take 
counsel  with  him  on  the  interests  of  the 


36  "  OUR   MINISTER." 

church.  Far  otherwise  were  his  temper 
and  practice.  They  were  taught,  and  they 
learned  to  come  with  all  freedom  and  lay 
their  hearts  before  him,  and  the  patience 
and  sympathy  with  w^hich  he  listened  to 
their  individual,  and  all  but  endless  stories, 
is  a  matter  of  wonder  to  me,  now  that  I 
call  to  mind  how  much  of  it  he  was  com- 
pelled to  endure.  I  used  to  be  often,  when 
a  child,  at  his  house,  playing  with  his  boys, 
and  had  the  most  frequent  and  favorable 
opportunities  of  observing  that  of  which  I 
am  now  speaking.  And  while  he  w^as 
ready  always  to  enter  with  kindness  and 
freedom  into  the  varied  wants  of  those 
who  came  to  him  with  "  something  on  their 
minds,"  he  knew  his  own  duties  too  well, 
and  his  high  responsibility  to  God,  to  suf- 
fer them  for  a  moment  to  dictate  to  him 
as  to  the  mode  in  which  he  should  manage 
the  flock  of  which  he  had  been  made  the 
overseer.  Even  in  those  days,  the  people 
would  sometimes  have  "  itching  ears"  to 
hear  a  new-light  preacher  of  great  renown, 


"OUR   MINISTER."  37 

who  was  turning  the  world  upside  down 
with  his  eloquence,  and  they  would  take 
some  roundabout  way  to  hint  to  Mr.  Rogers 
that  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  send  for 
him  to  come  and  give  them  a  few  rousing 
sermons.  But  they  were  not  long  in  find- 
ing, that  Mr.  Rogers  held  the  keys  of  the 
pulpit  in  his  own  hand,  and  asked  whom  he 
pleased,  and  none  others,  to  feed  his  flock. 
If  this  uniform  course  of  conduct  now  and 
then  chafed  the  necks  of  some  of  the  less 
judicious  of  the  congregation,  the  pastor 
had  two  rich  and  all-sufficient  sources  of 
comfort — the  support  of  all  the  better  sort 
of  his  people,  and  the  approbation  of  a 
good  conscience. 

Mr.  Rogers's  intercourse  with  his  people 
did  not  confine  itself  to  their  visits  at  his 
study  or  house.  He  sought  them  at  their 
own  homes,  and  around  their  firesides  and 
tables  he  mingled  with  them,  in  such  easy 
and  cheerful  conversation,  that  they  felt 
him  to  be  their  friend,  while  they  never  for- 
got that  he  was  their  teacher  and  guide  to 

4 


38  "our  minister." 

heaven.  We  children  never  felt  alt02:ether 
at  home  when  the  minister  was  there.  We 
were  not  quite  so  free  to  come  into  the 
room,  and  we  hung  down  our  heads,  and 
perhaps  kept  one  thumb  in  our  mouths,  as 
if  w^e  were  very  much  ashamed  of  our- 
selves when  we  were  summoned  into. his 
presence  "  to  say  the  catechism,"  and  re- 
ceive such  good  and  wholesome  advice,  as 
he  never  failed  to  administer,  in  tones  that 
sunk  deep  into  our  young  hearts.  Those 
were  often  very  solemn  seasons,  and  if  the 
practice  is  passing  away  from  the  churches 
of  our  land,  I  would  that  it  might  be  re- 
stored again.  In  these  good  days  of  Sun- 
day-schools, and  other  excellent  but  modern 
modes  of  training  up  children  in  the  w^ay 
in  which  they  should  go,  the  old-fashioned 
plan  of  pastoral-catechizing  has  been  laid 
aside  in  very  many  parts  of  our  land.  I 
speak  not  of  the  catechism  of  any  particu- 
lar creed.  All  those  who  call  themselves 
Christian^  have  a  duty  to  perform  to  their 
children,  and   if  the    pastor   and   parents 


"OUR    MINISTER."  39 

would  Imitate  the  example  of  our  minister, 
they  would  bless  their  children  and  the 
country.  In  these  pastoral  visits,  and  in 
the  instruction  which  the  young  received  in 
preparation  for  it,  were  laid  the  principles 
of  that  attachment  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
gospel,  of  the  order  of  the  church,  and  of 
submission  to  law  of  God  and  of  man, 
obedience  to  parents,  respect  to  those  who 
are  older,  wiser,  and  better,  that  ever 
marked  the  youth  who  were  trained  under 
the  ministry  of  this  man  of  God  ;  and  I 
am  inclined  to  think,  that  if  you  follow  the 
whole  generation  that  passed  their  child- 
hood in  that  congregation  at  that  time,  you 
will  find  very  few  who  have  not  become, 
and  remained  till  death,  sober,  quiet,  sub- 
stantial citizens,  and  useful,  honest  men. 
But  this  is  not  getting  on  with  the  story. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Rogers  arrived  at  any 
house  in  his  scattered  and  extended  parish, 
all  the  ordinary  cares  of  the  family  were 
suspended,  and  the  whole  time  of  every 
member  given  to  him.     On  his  first  indue- 


40  '  "OUR   MINISTER." 

tion  to  this  people,  it  was  the  custom  of  the 
good  woman  of  the  house,  to  begin  to  fly 
about  when  the  minister  came  to  fix  up  the 
best  parlor,  and  get  ready  some  warm  bis- 
cuit for  tea,  or  a  pair  of  chickens  for  dinner, 
if  he  came  before  noon,  and  thus  all  her 
time  was  spent,  like  that  of  Martha,  in  much 
serving.  Mr.  Rogers  soon  put  an  end  to 
that  mode  of  entertainment,  by  informing 
his  people  from  the  pulpit,  that  when  he 
came  to  see  them  at  their  houses,  it  was 
not  to  be  feasted,  but  to  feed  their  souls 
and  the  souls  of  their  children ;  and,  there- 
fore, if  they  wished  to  please  him,  they 
would  do  as  Mary  did,  sit  still  and  listen. 
This  hint,  after  sundry  repetitions,  had  the 
desired  effect,  and  he  was  able  to  enjoy 
the  whole  time  of  his  visit  in  those  great 
duties  which  he  felt  to  be  of  unspeakable 
importance  to  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the 
family.  The  heads  of  the  household  were 
first  conversed  with  freely  on  the  progress 
which  they  were  making  in  personal  re- 
ligion ;  if  they  had  doubts,  and  fears,  or  any 


"OUR   MINISTER."  41 

Other  difficulties  about  which  they  needed 
direction,  they  were  encouraged  to  make 
them  known,    and  from  the   stores   of  his 
well-furnished  mind,  and  the  richer  treasures 
of  a  deeply  spiritual  experience  and  great 
familiarity  with  the  word  of  God,  he  was 
able  to  impart  just  that  counsel  which  their 
trials   seemed    to    require.     If  they    were 
backward  in  their  performance  of  any  of  the 
acknowledged   duties  of  Christian  life,  if 
the  worship  of  God  in  the  family  was  not 
faithfully  attended  to,  if  they  were  at  variance 
with  any  of  their  neighbors,  or  slack  in  the 
discharge  of  their  obligations  to  their  fellow- 
men,  he  would  in   all   kindness,  but  with 
skilful   decision,  as  their  soul's  physician, 
give  ihem  those  prescriptions  without  which 
it  was  impossible  for  their  souls  to  thrive. 
Such  fidelity  and  freedom  on  his  part,  so 
far  from  ahenating  their  affections,  did  but 
endear  him  to  them  the  more,  as  they  saw 
his  affectionate  interest  in  their  souls'  con- 
cerns, and  felt  the  power  and  truth  of  the 
admonitions   which   he   gave.     And   then 
4* 


42  "OUR   MINISTER." 

these  admonitions  were  often  blessed  of 
God  to  the  great  comfort  and  edification  of 
the  people,  who  thus  found  in  their  own 
happy  experience,  the  ineffable  value  of  a 
faithful  pastor,  whom  they  loved  even  when 
he  came  to  wound. 

The  children  were  then  called  in,  and 
were  examined,  as  I  have  hinted,  in  the 
catechism,  in  which  they  were  regularly  in- 
structed by  their  parents.  The  doctrines 
therein  contained  were  then  familiarly  ex- 
plained, and  the  young  were  most  earnestly 
persuaded  to  give  their  hearts  to  the  Savior, 
while  yet  in  the  morning  of  their  days.  As 
the  congregation  was  widely  extended,  it 
was  common  for  Mr.  Rogers  to  give  notice 
on  the  sabbath,  that  during  the  week  on  a 
certain  day,  he  would  visit  in  such  a  neigh- 
borhood, and  at  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon he  wished  the  families  in  that  vicinity 
to  assemble  at  a  house  named,  for  religious 
conversation  and  prayer.  And  those  were 
good  meetings,  you  may  be  sure  ;  the 
farmer's  house  in  which  it  was  held,  would 


"our  minister."  43 

be  filled  with  parents  and  children,  the  halls 
and  the  stair-case  crowded  ;  a  litde  stand, 
with  a  bible  and  psalm-book,  would  be  set 
for  the  minister  at  some  point  from  which 
his  voice  could  easily  be  heard  over  all  the 
house,  and  such  prayers  and  such  appeals 
would  be  then  and  there  made,  as  the  spirit 
of  God  delights  to  attend  and  bless.  How 
many  tears  did  the  children  shed  in  those 
meetings ;  not  alarmed  by  terrible  words 
of  coming  w:rath,  but  melted  with  the  pathos 
of  gospel  love,  and  moved  by  the  strong 
appeals  of  that  holy  man.  Impressions,  I 
know,  were  made  at  those  meetings,  that 
eternity  will  only  brighten  and  deepen,  as 
the  memory  of  those  solemn,  yet  happy 
hours,  mingles  with  the  joy  of  immortal 
bliss.  I  mention  those  scenes,  although  I 
can  hardly  expect  that  others  will  take  any 
interest  in  the  record,  hoping  that  some  will 
gather  hints  from  these  to  go  and  do  Hke- 
wise,  and  because  I  love  to  linger  among 
recollections  that  are  the  sweetest  and 
strongest  of  life's  early  houis. 


44  "OUR   MINISTER." 

In  speaking  of  Mr.  Rogers's  voice,  I 
touched  incidentally  upon  his  power  as  a 
preacher.  He  was  eminently  an  instructive 
preacher.  It  was  his  aim  to  produce  an 
intellic-ent  conviction  in  the  minds  of  his 
hearers  of  the  truth  of  the  great  doctrines 
of  the  gospel,  to  elucidate  them  w^ith  so 
much  distinctness  that  they  should  readily 
admit  their  force,  and  thus  he  would  lay  the 
foundation  for  those  overwhelming  appeals 
to  duty  that  so  marked  his  pulpit  ministra- 
tions. He  was  great  on  the  doctrines.  I 
make  his  remark  in  this  blunt  way,  that  the 
fact  may  stand  out  the  more  distinctly.  He 
thought  the  religious  system  of  the  Bible  was 
a  system  of  great  truths,  having  an  intimate 
relation  to  one  another,  and  an  inseparable 
connexion  with  the  character,  and  conse- 
quently the  destiny  of  men.  Instead,  there- 
fore, of  spending  his  time  and  strength  in 
exhibiting  himself,  or  in  amusing  his  people 
with  theories  and  speculations  of  his  own, 
instead  of  merely  practical  exhortations 
which  constitute  so  great  a  part  of  the  preach- 


"OUR   MINISTER 


,«  45 


ing  of  many  excellent  and  devoted  men,  he 
labored  to  bring  home  to  the  minds  and  the 
hearts  of  his  people,  those  cardinal  doctrines 
of  the   gospel  which  lie  at  the  root  of  all 
true  faith  and  holy  living,  and  by  a  com-se  of 
regular  and  lucid  expositions  of  the  sacred 
oracles,  he  led  them  to  behold  these  doc- 
trines   shining    with    lustre    and    majestic 
beauty  on  every  page  of  revelation.     And 
when  these  strong  truths  were  thus  unfolded, 
he  would  stand  upon  them  as  on  a  mount 
of  glory,  and  thence  urge  the  claims  of  God 
and  the  gospel  with  words  of  fervid  heat 
and   strength,  that  melted   the   hearts   on 
which  they  fell,  and  mingled   their  saving 
power  in  the  mass  thus  dissolved   in  the 
breasts  of  the  assembly.     The  effects  of  this 
ministry  were,  as  might  be  expected,  im- 
mediate and  permanent.     The  word  of  the 
Lord   had   free  course  and  was  glorified. 
The  young  grew  up  to  manhood  with  strong 
attachments  to  the  faith  of  their  fathers,  the 
members  of  the   church  were  steadfast  in 
their  adherence  to  the  truth  as  they  had  re- 


46  "OTJR   MINISTER." 

ceived  it,  and  it  was  rare  to  see  a  man  in 
the  community  who  was  not  a  professor  of 
religion.  The  institutions  of  the  gospel 
commanded  the  respect  and  reverence  of 
the  whole  people.  Impiety  was  scarcely 
known  in  the  town,  so  deep-settled  and 
widespread  was  this  regard  for  the  truths  of 
God's  word  and  the  ordinances  of  his  house. 

Here  I  was  on  the  point  of  speaking  of 
the  great  revivals  of  religion  which  followed 
such  a  ministry,  but  they  will  demand  more 
space  than  I  have  now  left.  In  a  future 
chapter,  these  may  come  before  us  with 
some  of  that  tender  interest  that  now  clusters 
in  the  region  of  my  heart,  as  memory  runs 
back  to  scenes  when  the  Holy  Spirit  dis- 
played his  omnipotent  grace,  subduing  sin- 
ners and  winning  them  to  the  feet  of  Jesus. 
Precious  revivals  !  come  back  and  dwell 
with  the  church  for  ever. 

Yet  I  have  not  half  drawn  this  portrait 
of  Mr.  Rogers,  nor  told  one  of  a  thousand 
incidents  that  ought  to  be  thrown  in  to  con- 
vey even  a  faint  idea  of  the  man,  to  those 


"  OUR   MINISTER."  47 

who  know  nothing  of  him  except  what  they 
gather  from  these  sketches.  If  there  were 
any  traits  of  his  symmetrical  character  that 
ought  to  be  brought  out  in  bolder  rehef  on 
this  page  than  the  rest,  they  were  his  fixed- 
ness  of  imrpose  in  right,  and  his  unterrlfied 
moral  courage.  These  features  blend  in 
fine  proportions  in  the  life  of  every  right 
man,  but  they  are  worthy  of  distinct  recog- 
nition. It  was  our  minister's  great  study 
to  learn  what  God  would  have  him  to  do  ; 
in  one  word,  what  was  right;  for  as  he  was 
always  doing  something,  he  merely  wished 
to  ascertain  what  was  right,  and  he  went 
on  to  achieve  it,  as  easily  and  naturally  as 
he  would  eat  to  appease  his  hunger,  or  rest 
when  he  was  weary.  It  was  no  objection 
to  any  line  of  policy  or  the  attempt  of  any 
enterprise  that  the  people  would  not  like  it, 
or  that  the  world  would  oppose  it,  nor  even 
that  it  would  probably  fail  for  the  want  of 
support ;  enough  for  him  that  it  was  a  duty 
to  which  he  was  called,  and  like  Luther  on 
the  way  to  Worms,  or  his  Master  on  the  way 
to  crucifixion,  he  marched  steadily  onward, 


48  "OUR   MINISTER." 

and  if  he  did  not  succeed,  he  nevertheless 
had  his  reward.  Let  a  new  sect  seek  to 
propagate  some  pestilent  heresy  within  the 
bounds  of  his  parish  ;  let  a  reformer,  with 
zeal  and  without  knowledge  come  and  at- 
tempt to  sow  the  seeds  of  revolution  among 
the  people ;  and  then  see  with  what  calm 
and  holy  boldness  he  would  rouse  to  the 
defence  of  the  truth,  and  how  error,  affright- 
ed, would  flee  away  before  his  stern  and 
manly  rebukes.  Let  vice,  under  some  in- 
sidious garb,  begin  to  gain  a  foothold  in  the 
congregation,  among  the  young  in  their  fol- 
lies, or  the  old  in  their  pursuits  of  gain,  and 
the  "  Old  White  Meetinghouse"  was  sure 
to  ring  with  righteous  denunciations  and 
the  threatened  judgments  of  an  alienated 
God,  before  the  people  knew  that  the  mis- 
chief had  reached  the  pastors  ear. 

And  when  the  storm  of  opposition  burst 
upon  him,  as  it  did  at  last,  and  as  we  shall 
see  hereafter,  he  was  calm  and  unshaken 
like  the  rock  at  whose  base  the  waves  have 
broken  for  centuries.  True,  he  was  finally 
overthrown,  but  he  fell  as  I  have  seen  a 


"OUR   MINISTER."  49 

great  oak  which  the  river  overflowing  its 
banks  has  dashed  against  without  harm,  but 
anon  the  waters  have  subsided,  and  working 
their  way  under  the  roots,  have  at  last  worn 
away  the  soil,  and  the  tree  that  an  over- 
flowing deluge  could  not  move,  has  fallen 
headlong  by  the  silent  and  unseen  influence 
of  an  under-ground  foe. 

But  I  will  not  dwell  longer  on  my  old 
pastor.  I  know  I  have  not  begun  to  give 
him  to  you  as  he  was,  and  as  he  still  is  in 
my  soul's  recollections  of  years  now  gone. 
But  if  I  should  prolong  the  sketch  inter- 
minably, I  should  probably  get  no  nearer 
the  perfection  of  the  portrait.  You  have 
now  an  outline  only,  and  as  we  mingle  with 
the  congregation,  and  bring  under  review 
the  various  sorts  of  men  and  women  that 
made  it,  and  recount  the  many  and  wonder- 
ful scenes  through  which  they  passed,  you 
will  catch  more  of  the  tact  and  talent  of 
*'  our  minister"  than  I  can  convey  by  piling 
ever  so  many  words  upon  those  already 
written. 

5 


50  THE   PEOPLE. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  PEOPLE  —  SCENES  IN  THE  CHURCH — ELDER 
BUTLER — MRS.  BURTIS  AND  HER  CHILD — ELDER 
VAN    SLATE — MRS.  SNIFFLE. 

And  now,  as  faithful  historians,  come  we 
to  the  people  of  that  congregation.  Come 
from  your  graves,  old  men  and  women  of 
my  native  parish  ;  come  stand  up  before 
me  while  I  draw  your  portraits  and  write 
your  history  !  But  they  come  not.  Of  all 
that  were  the  men  and  women  grown  when 
I  was  a  boy,  how  few  of  them  are  there 
now  !  A  few  years  ago  I  broke  away  from 
the  city,  and  made  a  flying  visit  to  the  old 
town.  I  reached  there  on  Saturday.  No 
one  knew  me.  A  friend — yes,  one  whom 
I  had  grown  up  with  from  childhood,  and 
knew  me  as  well  as  an  own  brother,  nod- 
ded to  me  as  I  passed,  as  they  do  to  all 


THE   PEOPLE.  51 

Strangers  in  the  country,  but  the  smile  of 
recognition  was  wanting,  and  I  felt  truly  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  land.  I  stopped  and 
claimed  his  acquaintance  without  mention- 
ing my  name,  and  he  looked  steadily  at  me, 
but  declared  he  had  never  seen  me  before. 
Alas  !  what  work  time  makes  with  us.  I 
look  in  the  glass,  but  can  see  no  change  ; 
and  "why  should  others  find  it  out  ?  Yet  I 
see  it  in  them,  and  they  in  me.  ^^Tempora 
imitantur^''  &c.  Times  change,  and  we 
change  with  them.  We  are  hastening  to 
the  great  and  last  change. 

On  Sunday  I  went  to  church  in  the  new 
meetinghouse  on  the  site  of  the  old  one , 
and  what  a  change  was  here  !  The  square 
pews  had  yielded  place  to  the  modern  cush- 
ioned slips,  the  high  pulpit  overhung  with 
a  threatening  sounding-board,  which  I  was 
always  afraid  would  one  day  fall  and  crush 
poor  Mr.  Rogers  when  he  preached  so  loud 
as  to  make  it  and  me  shake,  had  been  sup- 
planted by  a  railed  platform  and  desk. 
But  these  were  nothino;  to  the  chano;e  in 


52  THE   PEOPLE. 

the  faces  of  the  people.  Those  old  famil- 
iar faces  !  Where  were  they  ?  I  looked 
here,  and  I  looked  there,  and  everywhere, 
but  I  found  them  not,  and  shall  not  find 
them,  till  the  *'  old  marble"  of  the  grave- 
yard breaks  at  the  sound  of  the  last  trump, 
and  the  tomb  resi£:ns  its  trust.  Holy  men  ; 
the  salt  of  the  earth ;  men  of  faith  and 
prayer;  men  of  God  !  Some  of  you  were 
like  Enoch,  and  no  wonder  that  God  took 
you  ;  one  was  like  Elijah,  and  went  after 
him  ;  and  many  of  you  were  men  of  whom 
the  world  was  not  worthy,  and  so  earth  lost 
you  that  heaven  might  gain  you  !  Peace 
to  your  ashes  !  O  that  each  of  you  had 
left  a  son  in  your  own  image  to  perpetuate 
your  name  and  your  virtues  !  Good  men 
were  always  scarce,  and  will  be  scarcer  now 
that  you  are  gone. 

They  were  farmers  mostly,  those  men 
were.  They  wrought  with  their  own  hands 
in  the  fields  and  the  thrashing-floor,  and 
were  independent  men,  if  there  ever 
were  independent  men  on  the  face  of  the 


THE   PEOPLE.  53 

earth.  There  was  no  river,  or  canal,  oi 
railroad,  by  which  their  produce  could  be 
transported  to  market,  and  by  which  the 
vices  of  the  city  could  be  transported  to 
them  ;  and  thus  were  they  saved  from  many 
of  the  sources  of  corruption  that  blight  the 
villages  which  the  march  of  improvement 
has  reached.  Often  we  see  a  secluded 
hamlet  where  purity  and  peace  nestle  as  in 
their  native  heaven,  till  the  rage  of  the  times 
drives  an  iron  pathway  right  through  its 
heart,  a  great  tavern  rises  by  its  side,  fash- 
ion, folly,  and  vice,  come  along  in  the  cars 
and  stop,  and  then  farewell  to  the  quietness 
and  virtue  of  that  rural  abode.  Not  so  was 
it  with  our  town.  When  the  harvest  was 
gathered  and  thrashed,  the  farmers  loaded 
up  their  wagons  with  the  great  bags,  and 
drove  off  thirty  or  forty  miles  to  market, 
and  returned  with  some  of  the  comforts,  and 
a  few  of  the  luxuries,  of  life ;  the  rest  of 
their  wants  being  readily  supplied  from  the 
farm  and  the  country  store.  Thus  were 
5* 


54  THE    PEOPLE. 

their  days  spent  in  the  peaceful  pursuit  of 
the  most  honorable  and  worthy  calling  to 
which  man  was  appointed.  Fewer  tempta- 
tions, and  more  pleasures,  cluster  around 
the  path  and  home  of  the  farmer,  than  of 
any  other  man.  He  is  not  free  from  the 
reach  of  sin  or  sorrow,  it  is  very  true,  and 
who  is  ?  Adam  was  a  farmer,  and  the  for- 
bidden tree  stood  in  the  middle  of  his  gar- 
den, and  sin  entered  and  made  his  paradise 
a  prison.  But  of  all  earthly  callings,  there 
is  none  in  which  there  is  so  much  to  lead 
the  soul  to  God,  to  take  it  away  from  the 
vanities  of  the  world,  to  train  the  mind  for 
communion  with  heaven,  and  prepare  it  for 
unbroken  intercourse  with  heavenly  and 
divine  things,  as  in  that  of  the  farmer  who 
with  his  own  hands  tills  the  field,  breaks  up 
the  fallow  ground,  sows  the  seed,  prays  and 
waits  for  the  early  and  latter  rain,  watches 
the  springing  of  the  grain,  rejoices  in  the 
ripening  ear,  gathers  the  sheaves  in  his 
bosom,  and  with  thankful  heart  fills  his 
storehouse  and  barn,  and  sits  down  content 


THE   PEOPLE.  55 

with  the  competent  portion  of  good  things 
which  have  fallen  to  his  lot. 

But  let  us  come  back  to  our  farmers. 
They  were  men  of  principle  and  prayer. 
I  will  give  an  instance  of  the  power  of  prin- 
ciple among  them.  Long,  long  before  the 
era  of  the  present  temperance  reform,  Mr. 
Rogers,  the  minister,  awoke  to  the  evils  re- 
sulting from  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  even 
in  an  agricultural  district  like  that  in  which 
he  lived.  The  farmers,  in  those  days,  were 
wont  to  purchase  their  rum  by  the  barrel, 
and  to  drink  it  freely,  not  only  without  any 
apprehensions  of  its  ever  doing  them  any 
harm,  but  in  the  firm  persuasion  that  they 
could  not  do  without  it,  and  that  it  was  one 
of  the  blessings  of  Providence,  of  which 
they  should  make  a  free  use  with  thankful- 
ness. But  Mr.  Rogers,  with  a  longsighted- 
ness for  which  he  was  remarkable,  foresaw 
the  mischief  the  practice  was  begetting,  and 
determined  to  lift  up  a  standard  against  it. 
Accordingly,  the  "Old  White  Meeting- 
house"   thundered    with    an    anti-drinking 


56  THE   PEOPLE. 

blast,  in  which  the  evils  of  the  practice,  in 
all  their  moral,  physical,  and  social  bearings, 
were  set  forth  in  words  that  fell  like  burn- 
ing coals  on  the  heart,  and  electrified  the 
congregation.  The  good  people  wondered 
and  meditated.  There  must  be  something 
in  it,  or  Mr.  Rogers  would  not  have  brought 
it  home  to  them  with  such  pungency  and 
power.  They  thought  of  it  with  earnest- 
ness. Mr.  Rogers  visited  some  of  the 
largest  farmers,  and  proposed  to  them  to 
try  the  experiment  of  "haying  and  harvest- 
ing" one  season  without  rum.  It  was  such 
a  strange  idea,  that  almost  every  one  said 
it  would  be  impossible  to  find  men  to  do 
the  work,  and  the  crops  would  rot  in  the 
field.  But  two  or  three  of  the  best  of  them 
were  induced  to  try  it.  The  result  was 
most  happy.  They  gave  the  hired  men  the 
usual  cost  of  the  rum  as  an  advance  upon 
their  wages  ;  they  were  perfectly  satisfied. 
The  work  was  done  in  better  time  and  in 
better  style,  and  the  experiment  was  pro- 
nounced on  all  hands,  successful  beyond 


THE    PEOPLE.  57 

controversy.  The  result  was  proclaimed 
through  the  town.  The  next  year  it  was 
tried  by  several  others,  and  soon  it  became 
a  general  practice  among  the  farmers  of  that 
congregation,  although  the  date  of  the  tem- 
perance reformation  is  some  years  this  side 
of  that  movement  which  was  as  decided  and 
important  as  any  one  instance  of  reform 
which  has  ever  since  been  made.  Indeed, 
I  have  now  a  sermon  which  this  same  Mr. 
Rogers  preached  against  the  use  of  intoxi- 
cating drinks,  from  the  text,  "  Who  hath 
woes,"  &c.,  and  which  was  delivered  and 
printed  before  I  luas  born,  yet  I  can  remem- 
ber the  opening  of  the  modern  temperance 
reformation. 

Yet  there  was  very  little  intemperance 
even  prior  to  this  period.  There  were  a 
few  drunkards  whose  portraits  I  would  add 
to  these  sketches,  but  that  they  are  very 
much  like  unto  modern  drunkards  ;  and 
their  portraits  are  not  very  pleasant  pictures. 
There  was  not,  however,  one  in  that  whole 
town  so  given  to  the  use  of  rum,  as  a  man 


58  THE    PEOPLE. 

whose  house  I  passed  yesterday,  and  who 
is  now  on  his  thirteenth  hogshead  of  rum  ; 
he  is  seventy  years  of  age,  he  buys  his  ruin 
by  the  barrel,  and  drinks  steadily,  year  in 
and  year  out,  and  hopes  to  live  to  exhaust 
some  hogsheads  more  !  The  generation 
of  such  men,  we  trust  in  God,  is  rapidly 
drawing  to  a  close,  and  that  they  may  leave 
no  successors  to  tread  in  their  footsteps,  we 
will  never  cease  to  pray. 

The  firmness  of  principle  which  marked 
some  of  these  men,  seems  now  incredible 
when  I  observe  the  general  degeneracy  of 
the  times  on  which  we  have  fallen.  You 
might  as  soon  turn  the  sun  from  its  course, 
as  to  seduce  from  the  path  of  virtue  the 
Roman  Fabricius,  or  elder  Joseph  Butler, 
of  our  cono:reo:ation.  In  business  he  was 
true  to  the  right,  as  the  needle  to  the  pole , 
and  when  questions  of  doubtful  propriety 
were  dividing  the  opinions  of  men,  when 
you  had  found  where  truth  and  righteous- 
ness meet,  there  was  Joseph,  as  calm,  but 


SCENES   IN   THE    CHURCH.  59 

firm  as  a  rock,  or  the  angel  Abdiel,  "  faith- 
ful among  the  faithless." 

He  would  do  his  duty,  come  what  might. 
Here  he  had  learned  much  of  Mr.  Rogers, 
but  more  of  his  Bible.  When  the  enemy 
came  in,  like  a  flood,  or  in  the  still  small 
current  of  seductive  vice,  Joseph  Butler 
was  at  his  pastor's  side,  true  as  steel,  holding 
up  his  hands  like  Aaron  or  Hur,  and  there 
he  would  have  stood  in  the  face  of  all  the 
Amalekites  of  the  universe.  Such  elders 
are  rare  now.  One  Sunday,  there  was  a 
family  in  church  from  the  far  city  of  New 
York.  They  had  come  up  there  to  visit 
some  country  relations,  and  two  or  three 
of  these  gay  city  girls  burst  out  laughing  in 
the  midst  of  the  sermon.  The  cause  was 
this.  The  old  aunt,  whom  they  had  come 
to  visit,  had  stopped  in  at  one  of  the  neigh- 
bors on  the  way  to  church,  and  had  borrowed 
some  little  yellow  cakes,  called  turwpikes, 
and  used  I  believe  for  some  purpose  or  other 
in  baking  bread.  She  had  thrust  them  into 
her  work-bag,  which  she  carried  on  her  arm, 


GO  SCENES    IN    THE    CHURCH. 

and  during  sermon  having  occasion  to  use 
her  handkerchief,  she  drew  it  forth  suddenly, 
and  out  flew  the  turnpikes,  rolHng  and 
scampering  over  the  floor.  The  city  girls 
tittered  at  this,  as  if  it  were  very  funny. 
Their  seat  was  on  the  side  of  the  pulpit,  so 
that  the  pastor  did  not  see  them,  or  he 
would  have  brought  them  to  order  by  a 
look,  or  a  blow  on  the  desk,  which  would 
have  sent  the  blood  out  of  their  cheeks, 
thouofh  their  cheeks  would  have  been  red 
after  that.  But  Joseph  Butler  saw  them, 
and  rising  in  his  seat,  struck  with  his  psalm- 
book  on  the  top  of  the  pew — the  preacher 
paused — the  congregation  sat  dumb — the 
good  elder  spoke,  calmly  but  with  energy, 
''  Those  young  women  will  stop  that  laugliing 
in  the  house  of  Godf'*  they  did  stop  ;  the 
pastor  proceeded  ;  Joseph  sat  down,  and 
the  city  girls  gave  no  occasion  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  summary  church  discipUne,  during 
the  remainder  of  their  summer  visit.  The 
old  aunt  was  at  first  disposed  to  resent  the 
rebuke  as  an  insult,  and  did  complain  to 


SCENES    IN    THE    CHURCH.  61 

Mr.  Rogers,  but  she  soon  saw  that  the  of- 
fence deserved  the  punishment,  and  she 
submitted. 

I  am  a  little  fearful  that  the  reader  will 
think  these  incidents  were  so  common  that 
they  were  characteristic  of  our  sabbath 
services.  Not  so.  They  were  "  few  and 
far  between,"  years  rolling  away  unbroken 
by  a  single  circumstance  to  disturb  the 
profound  solemnity,  the  almost  monotony 
of  sacred  worship,  in  those  venerable  walls. 
The  people  always  the  same,  the  services 
always  the  same,  the  preaching,  the  singing 
almost  always  the  same  in  style,  there  was 
little  variety ;  and  consequently,  these  in- 
cidents occurring  in  the  lapse  of  years,  have 
made  the  deeper  impression  on  my  mind, 
and  now  start  up  with  freshness  and  life 
when  I  sit  down  to  chronicle  the  past. 
Thus  another  comes,  and  I  must  tell  it, 
whether  or  not  in  its  proper  place  in  the 
chronicles  of  this  country  congregation. 

There  was  among  the  people  always  at 
church,  an  old  man  by  the  name  of  Riding. 
6 


63  SCENES   IN   THE   CHURCH. 

He  was  not  a  pious  man,  and  withal  was 
very  hard  of  hearing,  so  that  having  neither 
interest  in  the  truth,  nor  the  power  to  hear 
it  with  ease,  he  went  to  meeting  from  force 
of  habit,  took  his  seat  with  his  back  to  the 
minister,  and  quietly  sinking  into  slumber, 
slept  steadily  to  the  close  of  service.  This 
was  his  constant  practice.  There  was  also 
a  woman,  Mrs.  Burtis,  whose  mind  was 
slightly  sprung,  and  whose  nervous  tem- 
perament was  specially  excitable  by  scenes 
of  suffering,  whether  real  or  imaginary, 
meeting  her  eye  or  her  ear.  Thus  the 
sight  of  a  fellow-being  in  circumstances  of 
sudden  and  dreadful  distress,  would  throw 
the  old  lady  into  fits,  when  she  would 
scream  so  terrifically  that  it  would  have 
been  nothing;  strano^e  if  all  around  her  had 
gone  into  fits  to  keep  her  company.  She 
sat  in  the  same  pew  with  old  Mr.  Riding, 
and  directly  in  front  of  him,  looking  up  to 
the  minister.  Mr.  Rogers  was  describing 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  as  a  wonder- 
ful example  of  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy. 


SCENES    IN    THE    CHURCH.  63 

He  came  to  speak  of  the  awful  fact  that 
delicate  women  took  their  own  children, 
and  killed  them,  and  cooked  them,  and  ate 
them,  so  fearful  was  the  power  of  ghastly 
famine  over  all  the  strongest  and  hohest 
impulses  even  of  the  mother's  heart.  He 
had  wrought  up  the  description  with  great 
skill  and  effect,  and  being  excited  with  the 
theme,  he  portrayed  with  great  pathos  and 
power  the  scene  where  the  Roman  soldiers 
burst  into  a  house,  attracted  by  the  smell  of 
meat,  and  demanded  it  of  the  hands  of  the 
trembling  woman  within.  She  goes  to  the 
closet  and  brings  forth  upon  a  dish  the  frag- 
ments of  her  half-eaten  child,  and  places 
it  before  the  horror-stricken  soldiers.  Mrs. 
Burtis  had  been  listening  with  riveted  ears 
to  the  dreadful  tale;  the  fire  in  her  brain 
had  been  gathering  fierceness  as  the  preach- 
er proceeded,  but  when  the  dish  with  the 
baked  babe  came  out  of  the  closet,  she 
could  stand  it  no  longer ;  reason  let  go  the 
reins ;  and  springing  from  her  seat,  Mrs. 
Burtis  pounced  upon  old  Mr.  Riding,  who 


64  SCENES   IN   THE   CHURCH. 

was  sleeping  in  front  of  her,  and  with  both 
hands  seizing  his  gray  locks,  she  screamed 
at  the  very  top  of  her  shrill  voice,  "  Whereas 
the  woman  thai  killed  my  childV  The  old 
man  waked  in  amazement,  but  so  utterly 
confounded,  that  although  his  hair  did  not 
stand  on  end,  for  the  very  good  reason  that 
Mrs.  Burtis  held  it  down  with  her  eagle 
talons,  yet  his  "  voice  clung  to  his  jaws." 
Not  a  word  did  he  utter,  but  with  meek- 
ness worthy  of  the  martyrs,  he  held  his 
peace  until  Joseph  Butler  and  another  elder 
rose,  and  disentangling  her  fingers  from 
the  hair,  conducted  her  quietly  from  the 
house,  and  the  preacher  went  on  with  his 
narrative. 

This  was  the  most  exciting  scene  I  ever 
knew  to  transpire  in  that  or  any  other  church 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  things.  Some 
years  afterward,  I  was  travelling  in  the  state 
of  Massachusetts;  and  spending  the  sabbath 
in  a  country  town,  I  attended  church,  where 
an  incident  of  not  a  little  novelty  occurred. 
A  farmer,  who,  I  was  afterward  informed, 


ELDERS   IN   THE   CHUKCH.  65 

had  a  great  fancy  for  driving  spirited  horses, 
got  asleep  in  the  middle  of  the  sermon,  and 
probably  dreaming  of  his  favorite  pursuit, 
and  thinking  that  the  horses  were  getting 
avi^ay  from  him,  started  to  his  feet,  and  in 
a  stentorian  voice  cried,  "  Whoa!"  The 
effect  was  to  bring  the  preacher  to  a  dead 
halt,  but  the  effect  upon  the  startled  people 
is  not  to  be  described. 

I  have  mentioned  the  traits  of  one  elder. 
There  was  another,  Warren  Kirdand,  a 
man  of  faith  and  prayer,  whose  life  was 
the  best  of  sermons,  and  who  being  dead, 
yet  speaks  in  the  power  of  his  memory, 
which  is  cherished  with  reverence  among 
his  posterity.  He  was  not  endowed  with 
more  than  ordinary  powers  of  mind,  but  he 
read  his  Bible  much,  and  prayed  much, 
and  conversed  much  with  his  minister,  and 
listened'  with  devout  attention  to  the  in- 
structions of  the  sanctuary,  so  that  he  was 
indeed  an  intelligent  Christian,  able  to  teach 
by  word,  as  well  as  by  the  power  of  a  godly 
life.  If,  as  sometimes  was  the  case,  Mr. 
6* 


66  ELDERS   IN   THE   CHURCH. 

Rogers  was  prevented  from  being  with  bis 
people  on  the  sabbath,  it  was  customary  to 
read  a  sermon  to  the  people.  This  was 
usually  done  by  a  worthy  lawyer,  and  then 
Elder  Kirtland  was  called  on  to  pra}^ ;  and 
such  was  the  respect  which  the  sincere 
and  humble  piety  of  that  good  man  com- 
manded, that  I  venture  to  say  the  prayers 
of  the  minister  were  never  more  acceptable 
to  the  people,  or  more  efficacious  in  the  ear 
of  Heaven. 

The  greatest  funeral  which  was  ever 
Known  in  that  town,  was  at  the  burial  of 
another  of  the  elders,  named  after  the  father 
of  the  faithful,  and  worthy  to  bear  the  name. 
He  was  the  friend  of  God  ;  a  pillar  in  the 
church,  and  worth  a  score  of  the  half-dead 
and  half-live  sort  of  Christians  which  abound 
in  our  congregations — dead  weights,  some 
of  them,  and  others  curses.  At  Abraham 
Van  Slate's  funeral,  there  were  miles  of 
wagons,  filled  with  people  from  all  parts  of 
the  surrounding  country,  who  had  come  to 
testify  their  respect  for  one  of  the  best  of 


ELDERS   IN   THE    CHURCH.  67 

men.  He  was  gathered  to  his  fathers,  but 
he  left  a  son  bearing  his  name  who  was 
chosen  to  bear  also  his  office,  and  whose 
wisdom  and  piety  fitted  him  to  sustain  the 
high  trust  he  received  with  his  ascending 
father's  mantle.  Good  men  and  true,  were 
those  men,  and  there  is  a  secret  reverence 
around  my  heart  as  I  thus  record  their 
virtues,  which  shows  me  how  easy  it  is  for 
poor  human  nature,  under  the  ignorance 
and  superstition  of  popery,  to  be  led  into 
the  false  but  natural  notion  of  seeking  the 
prayers  of  departed  saints. 

These  were  leaders  in  the  church.  There 
was  as  great  a  variety  of  character  as  is  usual 
in  a  country  congregation,  but  I  am  not  per- 
mitted to  fill  the  book  with  their  history,  or 
the  reader  should  hear  more  of  them.  I 
wanted  to  tell  of  "  Old  Jack,"  a  blind 
negro,  once  a  slave,  now  free,  and  the 
Lord's  freeman,  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
examples  of  the  power  of  divine  grace  that 
the  world  can  show.  He  was  small  in 
statute,  old,  hump-backed,  blind,  and  black. 


68  MRS.   SNIFFLE. 

After  such  a  description,  true  to  the  letter, 
it  will  hardlv  be  credited  that  he  was  a  use- 
ful  member  of  the  church,  qualified  to  lead 
in  prayer  and  to  make  a  word  of  exhorta- 
tion to  the  edification  of  others,  and  that  his 
gifts  were  often  called  into  exercise  in  the 
social  meeting.  His  piety  was  deep  and 
fervent,  and  his  faculties  so  shrewd  and 
strong,  that  his  remarks  were  always  pointed 
and  pertinent,  and  often  displayed  an  inti- 
mate knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  and 
such  close  conversation  with  God  as  few  of 
the  most  intelligent  Christians  enjoy.  Many 
of  his  sayings  might  here  be  recorded,  or 
his  life  and  conversation  might  be  written 
out  as  a  tract,  to  the  glory  of  Him  who 
thus  perfects  his  own  praise  out  of  the 
mouths  of  the  most  humble  and  unlikely 
instruments. 

I  wish  you  could  see  old  Mrs.  Sniffle, 
the  gossip  of  the  congregation,  in  her  rounds 
of  absorption,  fastening  herself  upon  every 
one,  to  take  in,  like  a  sponge,  whatever  they 
would  impart,  that  she  might  have  the  sweet 


MRS.   SNIFFLE.  69 

satisfaction  of  leaking  it  to  others.     Her 
harvest-time  was  at  the  close  of  the  morning 
service,  when  the  most  of  the  people  re- 
mained in  their  respective  pews  to  eat  their 
dinner,  which  those  from  a  distance  brought 
with  them.     This  was  the  favorable  moment 
for  Mrs.  Sniffle's  expedition,   and   darting 
out  of  her  own  seat,  she  would  drop  in  at 
another,    out  with    her   snuff-box,  pass   it 
round,  and  inquire  the  news.     Staying  just 
long  enough  to  extract  the  essence  of  all  the 
matters  in  her  line  to  be  met  with  there,  she 
would  make  all  haste  to  the  pew  of  some 
one  from  another  neighborhood,  where  she 
would  impart  the  information  she  had  just 
received  with  her  own  edifying  comments, 
pick  up  as  many  additional  fragments  of 
facts  as  she  could  find,  and  pass  on  to  an- 
other pew,  spending  the  whole  of  the  inter- 
val of  divine  worship  in  this  avocation,  and 
the  leisure  of  the  week  to  come,  in  spread- 
ing among   her  neighbors  these  items  of 
-news,  especially  such  as  come  under  the 
head  of  scandal.     It  is  only  just  to  the  peo- 


70  MRS.   SNIFFLE. 

pie,  however,  to  add  that  Mrs.  Sniffle  was 
a  black  sheep  in  the  flock ;  there  was  not 
another  like  her,  and  we  may  well  say, 
happy  is  that  people  which  is  so  well  off  as 
to  have  only  one  Mrs.  Sniffle.  Of  the  good 
people  in  our  congregation,  I  have  given  but 
examples  of  a  whole  class,  while  such  char- 
acters as  Mrs.  Sniffle  were  sinHe  and  alone. 

o 

Take  them  in  mass,  and  they  were  a  so- 
ber, temperate,  orderly,  devout  people  ;  de- 
lighting in  the  ordinances  of  God's  house, 
and  striving  together  to  promote  the  glory 
of  the  Savior.  If  you  saw  them  standing 
in  groups  around  the  door  before  the  ser- 
vice began  on  the  sabbath-day,  it  was  not 
to  trade  horses  or  talk  politics,  as  I  have 
known  the  practice  to  be  in  other  places, 
but  more  likely  it  was  to  speak  of  the  state 
of  religion  in  their  neighborhoods  or  their 
hearts,  though  the  young  and  thoughtless 
doubtless  found  topics  of  conversation  more 
congenial  to  their  unsanctified  tastes.  And 
then  there  was  a  set  that  always  went  over 
to  a  litde  red  tavern  across  the  green,  where 


MRS.    DOUBLEBY.  71 

old  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Doubleby  lived  ;  and  what 
they  said  and  did  when  they  got  there,  I 
will  not  undertake  to  say.     1  wish  you  could 
see  old  Mrs.  Doubleby  standing  in  the  front 
door,    with    her    hands    folded    under  her 
checked  apron,  and   her  spectacles  on  her 
forehead,     chatting    with    everybody    that 
passed,  or  scolding  the  boys  who  loved  to 
stone  her  geese  and  sheep  which  she  pas- 
tured  on   the   green   or  in  the  graveyard. 
She  was  a  character  ;  but  her  virtues,  if  any, 
and  faults,  if  many,  will  be  alike  unknown 
to  future  generations,  for  her  only  chance 
of  immortality  in  history  is  while  I  am  wri- 
ting this  paragraph,  and  this  is  done. 

And  so  must  this  part  of  this  record  be 
brought  to  a  close,  even  in  its  very  opening. 
How  many  of  that  people  would  I  love  to 
mention,  for  now  they  come  thickening 
around  me,  and  I  see  their  faces  as  if  thirty 
years  ago  were  only  yesterday  ! 

"  Oft  in  the  stilly  night, 

Ere  slumber's  chain  hath  bound  me, 
Fond  memory  brings  the  light 
Of  other  days  around  me." 


72  REFLECTIONS. 

vAnd  now  in  this  still  nightj  the  thoughts 
of  those  friends  of  my  youth  come  back 
with  such  sweetness,  that  I  fear  to  drop  the 
pen,  lest  the  illusion  should  cease  and  the 
vision  vanish. 

'Guides  of  my  life  !  instrnctors  of  my  youth! 
Who  first  unveiled  the  hallowed  form  of  Truth ; 
Whose  every  word  enlightened  and  endeared ; 
In  age  heloved,  in  poverty  revered  ; 
In  friendship's  silent  register  ye  live, 
Nor  ask  the  vain  memorial  Art  can  give." 

But  I  must  stop,  for  the  chapter  gains 
upon  me  every  moment  that  I  write  :  as 
the  same  poet  saith  whose  sweet  words  we 
have  just  recited  : — 

"  Lulled  in  the  countless  chambers  of  the  brain, 
Our  thoughts  are  linked  by  many  a  hidden  chain. 
Awake  but  one,  and  lo  !  what  myriads  rise  ! 
Each  stamps  its  image  as  the  other  flies !" 


OUR    SINGING    SCHOOL.  73 


CHAPTER  V. 

OUR     SINGING-SCHOOL — THE    BRIDGE     WAR — DAN- 
CING-SCHOOLS. 

Why  is  it  that  the  choir  of  a  country 
congregation  is  always,  or  often,  the  source 
of  discord  ?  Every  one  who  knows  the 
internal  polity  of  these  societies,  has  met 
with  the  singular  fact  that  the  singing  is  the 
most  difficult  subject  to  be  managed  with 
harmony,  yet  a  matter  that,  one  would  think, 
should  never  make  any  trouble,  much  less 
be  a  cause  of  quarrels  and  divisions.  Yet 
true  it  is,  and  in  making  these  records  I 
must  introduce  the  reader  to  our  singing- 
schools,  and  let  him  into  some  secrets 
which  may  be  both  entertaining  and  profita- 
ble. You  will  therefore  understand  that 
the  singing  had  become  about  as  bad  as  it 
could   be  and  retain  the  name.     Deacon 

7 


74  OUR    SINGING-SCHOOL. 

Small — a  very  large  man,  who  could  sing 
nothing  but  base,  and  that  very  badly — had 
sung  tenor  and  led  the  singing  for  ten  years, 
until  forbearance  ceased  to  be  a  virtue,  and 
some  of  the  congregation,  whose  nerves 
were  not  made  of  steel  wire,  began  seriously 
to  talk  of  doing  something  to  improve  the 
music.  The  deacon  said  that  for  his  part 
he  should  be  glad  to  do  anything  reasonable, 
and  he  had  sometimes  thought  the  singing 
would  be  better  if  the  young  folks  would 
come  together  once  a  month  or  so,  and 
practise  the  tunes  with  him  ;  he  would  give 
his  time  for  nothing,  and  perhaps  something 
might  be  done. 

But  this  was  not  the  thing.  The  deacon's 
singing  was  as  bad  as  the  choir's,  in  fact 
worse  ;  for  what  he  lacked  in  skill  and  taste 
he  made  up  in  volume ;  and  his  voice,  in 
a  part  for  which  it  had  no  fitness,  would 
swell  above  all  the  rest  so  as  to  make  such 
dire  music  as  no  gentle  ears  could  endure 
without  grievous  pain,  causing  strong  tempta- 
tions to  feel  wrong  even  in  church.     When 


OUR   SINGING-SCHOOL.  75 

therefore  the  reformers  heard  that  Deacon 
Small  proposed  to  drill  the  choir  into  har- 
mony, they  thought  of  hanging  up  their  own 
harps ;  for  the  deacon's  instructions  could 
manifestly  avail  nothing  but  to  make  bad 
worse.  They  therefore  held  another  con- 
sultation, and  determined  to  submit  the 
matter  to  the  congregation,  in  full  meeting, 
and  make  a  desperate  effort  to  bring  about 
a  change. 

Accordingly,  when  the  people  assembled 
for  the  annual  "  letting  of  the  pews,"  the 
matter  was  introduced  with  great  caution, 
and  it  was  proposed,  after  much  discussion, 
to  send  to  Connecticut  (where  else  should 
they  send?)  for  a  singing-master.  Deacon 
Small  was  roused.  He  could  see  no  ne- 
cessity for  such  a  sudden  and  expensive 
measure ;  he  knew  as  much  about  singing 
as  any  of  them,  though  he  said  it  himself, 
and  he  hiew  that  they  had  as  good  singing 
as  they  could  expect,  and  if  they  wanted 
any  better  they  mustn't  go  off  to  hire  any^ 
body  to  come  there  and  teach  them  a  new 


76  OUR   SINGING-SCHOOL. 

set  of  tunes,  to  go  away  when  they  were 
about  half  learnt  and  carry  all  the  singing 
away  with  him.  But  the  reformers  carried 
the  day,  and  next  sabbath,  the  choir,  taking 
in  dudgeon  what  they  chose  to  consider  an 
affront  put  upon  them  and  their  leader,  took 
their  seats  in  the  body  of  the  church  below, 
leaving  the  front  seats  of  the  gallery  empty. 
The  pastor  saw  at  a  glance  the  state  of 
things  when  he  went  into  the  pulpit,  and 
beckoning  to  one  of  the  elders  who  was  a 
good  singer,  and  always  led  on  communion 
occasions,  to  come  up  to  him,  he  made  the 
necessary  arrangements,  and  as  soon  as  the 
morning  psalm  was  announced,  the  worthy 
elder  rose  in  his  place,  and  "  pitching  the 
tune,"  led  off  Old  Hundred,  to  the  edifica- 
tion of  the  congregation  and  the  discom- 
fiture of  Deacon  Small,  who  thought  there 
could  be  no  singing  unless  he  took  the  lead. 
By  a  vote  of  the  congregation  a  commit- 
tee was  appointed  to  obtain  a  singing-master 
to  teach  one  quarter,  for  which  he  was  to 
receive  a  hundred  dollars,  and  all  were  at 


OUR   SINGING-SCHOOL.  TV 

liberty  to  attend.  The  committee  heard 
of  a  teacher  and  hired  him.  He  came. 
His  name  was  Bridge ;  and  he  very  soon 
afforded  fresh  proof  of  the  saying  of  the 
knowing  old  ladies  of  the  place,  that  "  a 
good  singing-master  is  good  for  nothing 
else."  He  was  a  good  singer  but  a  great 
fop,  and  a  low,  ill-bred,  but  cunning  fellow, 
who  soon  ingratiated  himself  into  the  favor 
of  one  part  of  the  congregation  and  disgusted 
the  rest.  The  school,  however,  was  vastly 
popular,  especially  among  the  young  people, 
who  were  fond  of  coming  together  twice  a 
week  and  spending  the  evening  sociably. 
Bridge  always  gave  a  long  intermission, 
which  was  the  occasion  for  all  manner  of 
fun  among  the  young  people  ;  and  then  by 
coming  early,  and  staying  after  school  was 
out,  they  managed  to  make  the  entertain- 
ment quite  as  diverting  as  a  dance,  which 
latter  amusement  was  rarely  allowed  among 
the  sons  and  daughters  of  that  church.  But 
before  the  quarter  was  out,  the  singing-mas- 
ter was  detected  in  some  peccadilloes  that 
7* 


78  THE   BRIDGE   WAR. 

rendered  his  admission  necessary  in  the 
estimation  of  the  more  discreet  of  the  con- 
gregation. The  communication  of  this  de- 
cision to  the  school  was  the  signal  for  an 
explosion.  A  part,  perhaps  a  majority, 
acquiesced  in  the  decision  and  sustained 
the  committee,  but  others  resented  it  and 
resisted,  declaring  that  he  should  stay,  and 
they  would  hire  him  for  another  quarter. 
The  parties  were  now  pitted  against  each 
other,  and  for  a  long  time  the  contention 
raged  with  a  fierceness  that  threatened  the 
unity  of  the  church.  The  pastor,  of  course, 
took  ground  against  the  teacher,  for  his 
moral  unfitness  to  lead  the  worship  of  re- 
ligious people  was  apparent,  and  this  decided 
stand  of  the  pastor  brought  down  upon  his 
head  the  wrath  of  all  the  Bridge  men,  who 
did  not  scruple  to  say  that  they  would  keep 
Bridge  even  if  they  lost  their  minister. 

The  Bridge  party  circulated  a  subscription 
paper,  and  had  no  difficulty  in  raising  the 
money  to  hire  the  teacher  for  another  quar- 
ter, for  when  men  get  mad  they  are  always 


THE  BRIDGE   WAR.  79 

willing  to  pay  to  have  their  own  way. 
The  elders  refused  to  have  him  in  the  choir 
on  the  sabbath-dav,  and  so  the  strang-e  and 
disgraceful  spectacle  was  presented  of  part 
of  a  Christian  congregation  employing  a 
man  to  instruct  them  in  the  worship  of  God, 
while  the  officers  of  the  church  very  proper- 
ly refused  him  a  place  in  the  service.  And 
this  wicked  war  was  prolonged  until  the 
second  quarter  of  the  teacher  expired,  when 
he  and  his  friends  resolved  to  have  a  great 
musical  festival,  to  wind  off  with  due  honor 
the  controversy  in  which  they  flattered  them- 
selves they  had  been  victorious.  They 
wished  to  have  an  address  on  the  occasion, 
and  applied  to  the  pastor  to  deliver  it.  He 
answered  that  he  would  not  speak  if  Bridge 
was  to  lead  the  singing,  but  would  cheer- 
fully give  them  an  address  if  some  one 
else  were  selected  to  take  the  place  of  a 
man  whom  he  regarded  as  utterly  unfit  to 
conduct  the  devotions  of  God's  people. 
The  answer  was  far  from  being  satisfactory. 
Bridge  must  sing,  as  the  festival  was  de- 


80  THE   BRIDGE   WAR. 

signed  for  his  glory.  So  the  party  cast 
about  to  find  a  speaker  for  the  great  occa- 
sion, and  were  at  length  successful  in  ob- 
taining one  in  the  person  of  a  noted  pulpit 
orator  in  a  distant  city,  deposed  from  the 
ministry,  who  was  glad  to  make  his  way 
into  another  congregation  where  he  knew 
he  could  never  speak  on  the  invitation  of 
the  pastor.  This  irregular  and  disgraceful 
act  of  the  Bridge  party  closed  the  campaign. 
The  last  performance  was  condemned  by 
the  people,  and  the  second  engagement 
having  run  out.  Bridge  departed,  to  find 
employment  elsewhere,  the  party  that  had 
supported  him  became  ashamed  of  their 
own  conduct,  gradually  return  to  their  re- 
spective duties,  said  as  little  as  possible 
about  their  late  rebellion,  and  submitted 
themselves  in  silence  to  the  constituted 
authorities. 

But  it  was  not  until  after  many  years 
that  the  wounds  which  this  afTair  had  made, 
were  healed.  The  feelings  of  one  part  of 
the  people  were  alienated  from  the  other ; 


THE   BRIDGE   WAR.  81 

the  more  serious  and  substantial  of  the  con- 
gregation had  opposed  the  Bridge  party, 
which  was  composed  of  the  younger  and 
lighter  portion ;  the  pastor  had  been  so 
deeply  involved  in  the  struggle  that  his 
preaching  was  not  received  with  so  much 
affection  and  tenderness  by  those  from  whom 
he  had  differed ;  and  it  may  be  that  the 
word  of  God  was  not  accompanied  with 
that  spirit  of  prayer,  without  which  it  can 
never  be  effectual,  and  the  day  of  final  ac- 
count can  alone  disclose  the  extent  of  the 
mischief  wrought  by  those  men  who  de- 
termined to  put  in  peril  the  peace  of  the 
church  for  the  sake  of  carrying  their  own 
points. 

I  have  been  so  particular  in  stating  the 
facts  in  this  transaction  that  it  may  serve  as  a 
warning  to  other  churches  ;  for  great  is  the 
responsibility  incurred  by  that  man  who 
puts  himself  in  the  way  of  the  peaceful 
progress  of  the  gospel.  The  Holy  Spirit 
never  lingers  amojig  a  people  after  strife  has 
begun,  and  who  will  answer  for  the  guilt  of 


83  THE   BRIDGE   WAE. 

grieving  away  the  Messenger  of  Heaven's 
saving  grace  ? 

And  now  that  the  root  of  bitterness  was 
cast  out,  the  good  pastor  addressed  himself 
with  all  diligence  to  repair  the  breaches  that 
had  been  made.  He  brought  the  mighty 
power  of  divine  truth  to  bear  upon  the  con- 
sciences of  the  congregation,  and  with  his 
characteristic  fidelity,  tenderness,  and  skill, 
he  plied  them  with  those  considerations 
which,  in  the  course  of  time  and  under  the 
blessing  of  God,  resulted  in  the  restoration 
of  peace.  Some  of  the  most  reasonable  and 
pious  of  the  Bridge  party  were  frank  enough 
to  go  to  him  and  confess  their  error,  and  to 
express  their  strong  sense  of  admiration  of 
his  firm  and  Christian  deportment  during 
the  whole  affair ;  but  others  quieted  their 
consciences  by  treating  their  minister  w'ith  a 
little  extra  attention,  while  they  saved  their 
pride  from  the  manliness  of  an  apology, 
when  they  knew  they  were  wrong.  But 
the  singing  :  that  was  no  better,  but  worse 
rather.     Those  on  whom  reliance  had  long 


SACRED    MUSIC.  83 

been  placed  as  permanent  singers,  were 
disgusted  and  driven  from  the  gallery ;  a 
set  of  tunes  unknown  to  the  people  was  in- 
troduced ;  the  new  choir  were  unable  to 
sing  without  their  leader — they  soon  scat- 
tered ;  Deacon  Small  returned  to  his  post 
and  rallied  a  few  of  the  old  singers,  and 
for  a  time  "Dundee,"  and  "Mear,"  and 
"Wells,"  with  one  or  two  other  tunes  of 
equal  claim  to  antiquity,  were  performed 
upon  the  return  of  each  sabbath,  with  a 
regularity  and  uniformity  worthy  of  striking 
commendation. 

This  state  of  things  lasted  until  it  could 
be  borne  no  longer.  And  I  make  this  re- 
mark seriously.  It  is  intolerable  that  God 
should  be  mocked  with  such  praise  as  is 
offered  to  him  in  some  of  our  churches. 
Not  to  say  anything  of  it  as  a  matter  of  taste, 
to  gratify  the  ear  of  man,  and  exalt  the  af- 
fections of  the  worshipper,  there  is  another 
light  in  which  it  should  be  viewed,  and  a 
light  in  which  it  is  very  seldom  viewed  by 
our  churches.     I  refer  to  the  great  truth, 


84  SACRED    MUSIC. 

that  God  deserves  better  praise  than  he  gets 
in  those  temples  where  little  or  no  attention 
is  paid  to  the  culture  of  sacred  music.  If 
that  consideration  were  imprinted  on  the 
hearts  of  Christians,  they  would  from  prin- 
ciple spend  time  and  money  in  qualifying 
themselves  and  others  to  sustain  this  part 
of  public  w^orship  with  "  spirit  and  under- 
standing also." 

A  short  time  since  I  was  in  Boston,  and 
on  sabbath  morning  went  to  the  church 
where  Lowell  Mason  leads  the  singing,  with 
a  choir  that  has  long  enjoyed  the  Instruc- 
tions of  that  eminent  and  able  master.  I 
did  not  know  that  he  was  the  leader,  and 
was  not  prepared  to  expect  anything  more 
than  the  ordinary  singing  of  a  church  in 
that  refined  city.     But  those  words, 

"  Welcome,  sweet  day  of  rest, 
That  saw  the  Lord  arise," 

came  over  my  soul  as  if  the  morning  stars 
were  singing  their  Maker's  praise  with  the 
opening  of  another  sabbath  ;  and  as  the 
hymn,  sweet  in  its  own  melody,  but  sweet- 


SACRED    MUSIC.  85 

er  in  the  melody  which  rich  music  lent  it, 
swelled  on  my  ear,  I  was  carried  away  by 
the  power  of  the  praise,  now  rapt  into  a 
glow  of  ecstatic  feeling,  now  subdued  by  the 
melting  tones  that  fell  softly  and  sweetly 
on  my  responding  heart.  Yet  did  I  not 
think  of  the  singers,  or  the  leader,  or  the 
great  organ  whose  deep  base  rolled  through 
the  temple.  I  forgot  all  these,  and  felt 
only  that  we  were  praising  God,  in  the 
beauty  of  his  sabbath  and  sanctuary,  and 
that  He  who  delights  in  a  pure  sacrifice,  was 
receiving  a  warm  tribute  of  praise  from  that 
worshipping  people. 

"  My  willing  soul  would  stay 
In  such  a  frame  as  this, 
And  sit  and  sing  herself  away 
To  everlasting  bliss." 

Now  it  is  very  true  that  all  congregations 
can  not  have  Lowell  Mason  or  Thomas 
Hastings  to  teach  them  to  sing,  nor  is  it 
needful  in  order  that  the  music  may  be 
such  as  shall  be  pleasing  to  God  and  edify- 
ing to  the  people.  It  requires  no  sacrifice. 
The  practice  essential  to  success  in  this 

8 


86  SACRED    MUSIC. 

delightful  art,  is  itself  a  source  of  elevated 
and  rational  pleasure  to  those  engaged  in  it, 
especially  to  the  young,  and  when  the  sci- 
ence has  been  cultivated  until  skill  is  at- 
tained, there  is  scarcely  anything  that  con- 
tributes more  to  the  harmony  and  happiness 
of  the  social  circle  than  this.  And  if  our 
country  churches  would  regard  this  depart- 
ment of  public  worship  as  an  offering  to 
God,  who  is  not  willing  to  be  served  with 
that  which  costs  nothing,  but  who  loves  to 
lend  his  ear  to  the  music  of  his  children 
when  they  sing  as  they  ought,  it  seems  to 
me  that  there  would  be  a  wonderful  change 
in  the  style  of  music.  In  every  church 
there  would  be  an  association  of  those  who 
have  musical  taste  and  talent,  and  they 
would  labor  diligently  to  elevate  the  stand- 
ard of  public  sentiment  on  this  subject,  and 
of  their  success  there  could  be  no  doubt. 
Pastors  have  failed  of  their  duty  in  this 
matter ;  for  if  the  pulpit  had  been  faithful 
in  exhibiting  the  claims  of  this  part  of  di- 
vine worship  upon  the  conscience  of  the 


SACRED    MUSIC.  87 

people,  there  can  be  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  it  would  be  looked  upon  with  that  in- 
difference with  which  most  of  our  churches 
regard  it.  But  I  must  come  back  from  this 
digression. 

Our  old  congregation  having  become 
thoroughly  satisfied  that  the  singing  must 
be  improved,  and  placed  on  a  basis  of  pro- 
gressive advancement,  sought  and  found 
another  teacher,  w^ho,  at  the  general  desire 
of  the  people,  came  to  establish  a  school 
and  lead  the  singing  on  the  sabbath-day. 
This  time,  Deacon  Small  and  all  agreed  to 
the  proposition.  The  young  people,  and 
some  of  the  older  ones,  attended  a  school 
one  evening  every  week  for  several  months ; 
the  old  standard  tunes,  as  Old  Hundred, 
St.  Thomas,  Tamworth,  Silverstreet,  &c., 
were  practised  over  and  over  again,  till  the 
whole  "rising  generation"  could  sing  them 
with  propriety ;  a  few  new  tunes  were 
learned,  and  learned  well,  and  when  the 
teacher  went  away  there  were  several  in  the 
school  who  were  well  qualified  to  take  the 


88  SACRED   MUSIC. 

lead.  The  selection  was  made  by  the 
school,  who  voted  by  ballot ;  the  elders 
confirmed  the  nomination,  and,  after  that, 
everything  went  on  smoothly.  Deacon 
Small  was  considerably  mortified  that  no- 
body voted  for  him  as  chorister,  but  he  kept 
his  mortification  to  himself,  and  each  suc- 
ceeding winter  a  school  was  opened  for  the 
instruction  of  the  young  in  sacred  music, 
and  no  difficulty  was  afterward  heard  of  on 
that  head.  But  there  is  reason  for  the 
question  propounded  at  the  opening  of  this 
record,  "  Why  is  the  choir  so  often  the 
source  of  discord  in  the  church  ?"  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  singers  are  naturally  ner- 
vous, sensitive  people,  or  (to  go  a  little  far- 
ther into  the  philosophy  of  the  thing),  that 
the  mental  and  physical  organization  of 
those  who  have  the  faculties  essential  to  a 
good  singer  is  so  delicate  that  this  class  of 
the  human  race  is  more  easily  discomposed 
by  trifles  than  any  other.  But  without 
speculating  upon  the  hidden  cause,  the  fact 
is  well  known  that  trouble  from  this  quarter 


SACRED   MUSIC.  89 

often  comes — trouble  that  the  influence  of 
the  pastor  and  the  wisdom  of  the  officers  are 
sometimes  powerless  to  remove  or  relieve. 
Frequently  have  I  seen  old  established  con- 
gregations shaken  to  their  very  centre  by 
these  musical  feuds,  when  the  matter  in  con- 
troversy was  so  unimportant,  the  ground  of 
offence  so  puerile,  that  it  can  be  reconciled 
neither  with   religion   nor   common   sense. 
Perhaps  some  one  of  the  singers  has  heard 
somebody  say  that  some  one  else  said  that 
the  singing  was  not  as  good  as  it  used  to  be. 
This  remark,  perhaps  made  inadvertently, 
is  repeated  and  magnified  ;  the  choir  hear 
of  it  and  refuse  to  sing.     Sometimes  an  un- 
popular individual  takes  a  seat  in  the  choir, 
and  the  rest  resolve  to  quit  the  seats  unless 
the  unwelcome   guest  withdraws,   and   he 
determines  to  stay  if  he  stays  alone,  and  so 
they  leave  him  in  full  possession.     But  the 
most  of  these  troubles  grow  out  of  the  em- 
ployment of  unsuitable  men  as  leaders  of 
singing  in   our  churches.     I  have  known 
men  of  notoriously  immoral  lives  to  be  ap- 
8* 


90  SACRED   MUSIC. 

pointed  to  this  responsible  office,  and  then 
most  righteously  would  the  sober  and  dis- 
creet members  of  the  church  rise  in  oppo- 
sition and  refuse  to  be  led  in  their  hymns 
of  praise  by  a  man  of  profane  lips.  Here 
is  no  place  to  argue  the  question  whether 
an  unconverted  person  should  ever  be  al- 
lowed to  lead  the  singing  in  the  house  of 
God,  though  I  can  not  avoid  entering  a  dis- 
sent to  that  doctrine  sometimes  advocated, 
that  because  you  would  not  call  on  a  man 
of  the  world  to  pray  in  public,  so  you  should 
not  invite  or  allow  him  to  sing  God's  praise 
in  public.  There  is  a  natural  distinction  in 
the  two  cases  which  can  scarcely  be  made 
plainer  by  illustration.  But  it  ought  to  be 
borne  in  mind  by  all  parties,  in  every  con- 
gregation, that  the  singing  is  a  part  of  divine 
worship,  the  regulation  of  which  belongs 
exclusively  to  the  church,  or  the  spiritual 
officers  of  the  church,  and  while  the  author- 
ity to  order  it  is  in  their  hands,  it  is  not  to 
be  expected  that  any  man  of  corrupt  life 
will  be  allowed  to  take  the  lead. 


SACRED    MUSIC.  91 

And  if  on  them  rests  the  responsibihty 
of  excluding  from  the  orchestra  those  whom 
they  regard  as  unfit  to  be  there,  most  em- 
phatically does  it  devolve  on  them  to  take 
measures  so  to  train  the  voices  of  the  peo- 
ple that  with  every  sabbath's  services  there 
may  go  up  to  God  acceptable  praise  in  the 
courts  of  his  house. 

Rather  than  suffer  the  evils  which  so  fre- 
quently arise  from  the  system  of  "  choirs," 
I  would  greatly  prefer  the  good  old-fash- 
ioned way  of  having  a  leader  or  presenter, 
who  shall  stand  in  the  face  of  the  congre- 
gation and  lead  the  praises  of  the  people. 
This  plan,  which  still  prevails  in  a  few 
churches  in  our  country,  and  in  many  of  the 
churches  in  "  the  old  country,"  secures 
several  important  ends.  It  leads  the  whole 
people  to  feel  that  they  are  to  unite  in  the 
public  song ;  that  singing  is  an  act  of  divine 
worship  in  which  each  of  them  is  expected 
to  bear  a  part ;  that  they  must  qualify  them- 
selves and  their  children  to  perform  this 
duty  acceptably,  and  therefore  they  must 


92  SACRED  MUSIC. 

all  learn  to  sinor.  There  is  somethinor  de- 
lightful  in  the  sight  and  the  sound  of  a  whole 
congregation  lifting  up  tlieir  voices  in  uni- 
son and  harmony  in  the  praise  of  their  God 
and  King,  and  sweeter  far  to  my  ear,  and 
sw^eeter  far,  it  seems  to  me,  must  it  be  to 
Him  who  listens  in  heaven,  to  hear  the 
warm,  full  hymn  from  the  great  congrega- 
tion, than  the  most  finished  and  exquisite 
performance  of  a  worldly  choir,  if  the  heart 
is  not  there. 

I  perceive  that  this  chapter  has  taken  the 
form  of  an  essay  on  church  music,  rather 
than  of  ancient  history,  as  I  proposed.  But 
the  subject  suddenly  took  this  turn,  and  has 
run  to  this  point,  where  I  must  leave  it. 
And  I  would  not  leave  the  reader  with  the 
impression  that  such  troubles  as  I  have  de- 
scribed w^ere  common  in  our  old  congrega- 
tion. The  farthest  from  it  possible.  Years 
would  roll  by  and  not  an  event  of  a  troub- 
lous kind  would  occur  to  make  one  year 
memorable  rather  than  another,  and  to  show 
how  rare  tvere  such  occurrences  as  those 


DANCING-SCHOOL.  93 

which  laid  the  foundations  of  this  chapter, 
I  may  say  that  these  events  transpired  when 
I  was  so  young  as  to  know  nothing  of  what 
was  going  on,  but  they  were  talked  about 
for  many  years  after,  and  I  have  written 
the  history  according  to  tradition  and  not 
from  memory.  People  would  often  speak 
of  the  Bridge  excitement  very  much  as  we 
speak  of  the  Shay's  rebellion,  or  the  revolu- 
tion— something  that  happened  once,  but 
never  to  be  expected  again.  Probably  few 
churches  could  be  found  in  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land  where  there  was  more 
peace  and  less  contention  than  in  ours,  dur- 
ing the  ministry  of  Mr.  Rogers. 

Dancing-School. — Do  you  suppose, 
indulgent  reader,  that  they  had  dancing- 
schools  within  the  limits  of  that  congrega- 
tion ?  I  am  at  a  loss  for  an  answer  to  my 
own  question,  for  if  I  have  not  mentioned 
before  I  should  now  remark  that  there  were 
other  congregations  intermingled  with  ours, 
so  that  a  large  part  of  the  population  was 
under   other   influences,    and    there   were 


94  DANCING-SCHOOL. 

families  also  that  belonged  to  no  church, 
for  whose  views  and  practices  no  one  could 
answer,  and  when  these  facts  are  remem- 
bered it  will  not  seem  so  strano;e  that  now 
and  then  the  young  folks  were  foolish  enough 
to  get  up  a  dancing-school  in  the  winter. 
Mr.  Rogers  was  not  in  the  habit  of  de- 
nouncing the  amusement  of  dancing  as 
sinful  in  itself,  or  of  threatening  church 
discipline  if  any  of  the  members  indulged 
in  it.  But  he  frequently  alluded  to  it  among 
other  follies  of  youth,  as  an  amusement  un- 
suited  to  persons  of  sense,  an  idle  waste  of 
time,  and  leading  to  evils  many  and  serious. 
In  this  way  he  was  able  to  repress  the  desire 
for  a  dancing-school  among  the  most  of  the 
young,  and  the  more  intelligent  and  pious 
of  the  church  discountenanced  and  forbade 
it  in  their  families.  Once  in  a  great  while 
when  the  young  folks  went  off  for  a  sleigh- 
ride,  or  assembled  for  an  evening  tea-party, 
they  would  wind  up  with  a  dance,  and 
sometimes  a  "  ball"  would  be  had  at  the 
tavern  in  front  of  the  Old  White  Meeting- 


DANCING-SCHOOL.  95 

house,  but  in  these  cases  the  leaders  were 
usually  young  men  from  the  neighboring 
villages,  who  had  a  sort  of  acknowledged 
right  to  set  the  fashions,  and  our  boys  and 
girls  w'ere  not  slow  to  follow. 

One  winter  some  of  the  youngsters  de- 
termined to  have  a  regular  dancing-school 
at  the  tavern  just  named,  and  after  a  great 
deal  of  management  they  succeeded  in 
getting  enough  to  agree  to  attend.  The 
school  was  kept  up  through  the  winter,  and 
toward  spring  they  were  to  have  a  "  public," 
or  a  grand  finale  to  their  winter  perform- 
ances. Invitations  were  sent  to  all  the  vil- 
lages within  twenty  miles,  for  the  fashion- 
ables to  attend,  and  every  arrangement  was 
made  for  one  of  the  most  splendid  displays 
which  that  old  quiet  town  had  ever  witness- 
ed. No  expense  was  spared  to  adorn  the 
room,  and  many  of  our  young  ladies,  by 
dint  of  coaxing  and  crying,  had  obtained, 
for  the  first  time  in  their  lives,  permission 
to  attend  a  ball.  Close  by  the  tavern  and 
in  full  view  of  the  ball-room  window,  lived 
*9 


96  DANCING-SCHOOL. 

one  of  the  young  ladies  who  had  in  the 
early  part  of  the  winter  been  a  member  of 
the  dancing-school,  but  who  had  been  taken 
sick,  and  as  the  time  for  the  ball  drew  nigh 
she  was  evidently  drawing  nigh  to  death. 
She  died  on  the  morning  of  the  very  day 
on  which  the  ball  was  to  come  off  in  the 
evening.  The  news  of  her  death  fled  rapid- 
ly over  the  town,  and  the  most  active  of  the 
getters-up  of  the  performance  were  in  doubt 
as  to  what  course  it  would  be  necessary  to 
take.  One  of  the  manas^ers  was  said  to  be 
betrothed  to  the  young  lady,  a  member  of 
the  school,  now  a  corpse  in  sight  of  the 
windows.  What  should  they  do  ?  The 
managers  met  in  the  afternoon  and  held  a 
consultation.  The  betrothed  was  not  there, 
but  he  sent  word  that  there  would  be  a 
manifest  propriety  in  postponing  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  evening.  But  the  rest  demur- 
red. Everything  is  now  ready,  all  the  ex- 
pense is  incurred  and  will  be  doubled  if 
they  defer ;  the  company  will  assemble  ; 
and  so  it  was  decided  to  go  on.     They  did. 


DANCING-SCHOOL.  97 

The  young  ladies  came  together,  but  before 
the  dancing  began,  one  of  them  was  look- 
ing out  of  the  window  and  saw  a  dim  light 
over  in  the  chamber  of  death,  where  watchers 
were  sitting  by  the  corpse  of  one  who  had 
hoped  to  be  on  the  floor  with  them.  A 
chill  came  over  the  young  lady  as  she  was 
looking  out ;  she  mentioned  to  one  near 
her  what  she  had  seen,  and  how  it  made 
her  feel;  the  sadness  spread  over  the  group 
in  that  corner,  and  one  began  to  complain 
of  sickness  and  to  make  an  excuse  for  going 
home,  and  then  another,  till  all  whose  con- 
sciences were  any  way  tender,  had  fled  from 
the  hall  of  mirth.  But  there  were  many 
left.  "  On  went  the  dance."  And  though 
death  was  at  hand,  and  one  of  their  number 
was  in  his  arms,  they  danced  till  morning. 
This  was  the  last  dancing-school,  and  the 
last  ball  for  many,  many  years,  in  that  place. 
The  next  sabbath  Mr.  Rogers  gave  them 
a  discourse  on  the  subject  with  special  refer- 
ence to  the  events  of  the  past  week.  It 
was  the  funeral  sermon  of  Mary  L  eland ; 

9 


98  DANCING-SCHOOL. 

and  did  not  the  hearts  of  those  youth  thrill 
when  he  drew  the  contrast  between  the 
chamber  of  death  and  the  ball-room,  the 
grave-clothes  and  the  ball-dress,  the  mourn- 
ers and  the  revellers  ?  And  when  he  drew 
from  that  striking  providence  a  lesson  on 
the  vanity  of  earthly  pleasures,  and  besought 
the  young  of  his  flock  to  turn  away  from 
the  follies  of  time  and  become  wise  for 
everlasting  life,  you  might  have  seen  the 
young  men  hanging  their  heads  in  shame, 
while  the  young  ladies,  all  over  the  house, 
were  weeping  with  grief  that  asked  no  con- 


OLD-FASHIONED   REVIVALS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OLD-FASHIONED    REVIVALS — THE    BALL — THE 
HORSERACE. 

I  VERY  much  fear,  that  in  making  a  chap- 
ter on  our  Old-Fashioned  Revivals, 
I  shall  say  something  that  may  be  construed 
into  reflections  upon  those  who  do  not  man- 
age things  as  they  did  when  I  was  young. 
But  I  disavow  all  such  intentions.  I  mean 
to  say  nothing  for  or  against  old  measures, 
or  new  measures  or  any  measures,  but  as  a 
faithful  and  impartial  historian,  recording 
the  times  and  scenes  through  which  I  have 
passed,  it  will  be  simply  a  matter  of  duty 
to  put  down  my  recollections  of  those  days 
when  the  Holy  Ghost  descended  with  pow- 
er, and  much  people  were  added  unto  the 
Lord. 

One  of  the  most  solemn  meetings  that  I 


100  OLD-FASHIONED   REVIVALS. 

have  attended  in  the  course  of  my  life,  was 
at  the  house  of  Elder  Warren  Kirtland, 
when  I  was  about  ten  years  old.  I  was 
younger  than  that,  rather  than  older,  and 
now  am  older  than  I  would  like  to  say,  but 
I  remember  that  meeting,  the  men  that 
prayed,  what  they  prayed  for,  Jiow  I  felt, 
and  how  the  tones  of  their  voices  fell  on  my 
young  heart,  like  the  voice  of  the  living 
God.  It  was  a  meeting  of  the  pastor,  the 
elders,  and  all  their  families,  with  those 
parents  and  children  that  lived  near  the 
house  of  the  elder  in  which  they  met.  The 
house  was  crowded,  and  the  stairs  that  went 
up  in  the  hall  were  covered  with  children. 
I  was  in  the  number.  It  seemed  that  Mr. 
Rogers,  the  pastor,  had  observed  that  through 
all  the  families  of  the  elders,  embracing  a 
great  number  of  children,  not  one  was  a 
professor  of  religion  !  The  fact  was  a  pain- 
ful one,  and  the  good  man  was  alarmed. 
He  laid  the  truth  before  the  elders,  and 
they  were  deeply  moved.  They  prayed 
over  it,  and  after  serious  deliberation,  re- 


OLD-FASHIONED   REVIVALS.  101 

solved  to  assemble  all  their  children,  and 
commend  them  unitedly  and  affectionately 
to  Him  who  had  promised  to  be  a  God  to 
them  and  to  theirs. 

The  meeting  was  held  as  I  have  said. 
And  when  Mr.  Rogers  stated  the  solemn 
fact  that  had  called  them  together,  there 
was  a  stillness  like  death  over  the  house, 
and  as  he  went  on  to  speak  of  the  prospect 
before  the  church  when  the  young  were 
thus  growing  up  in  sin,  and  the  prospect 
before  the  young  when  they  were  thus  har- 
dening their  hearts  under  rehgious  instruc- 
tion and  in  the  midst  of  the  gospel,  you 
might  hear  a  deep  sigh  from  the  hearts  of 
the  fathers,  and  see  the  tears  on  the  cheeks 
of  the  mothers,  and  soon  the  children 
caught  the  impression  of  the  hour  and  sob- 
bed in  the  grief  of  their  souls,  at  the  thought 
of  coming  judgment  and  no  preparation  to 
meet  an  offended  judge  !  !  The  pastor 
prayed,  and  one  after  another  of  those  el- 
ders, mighty  men  in  prayer  they  were,  went 
down  on  their  knees,  and  with  earnestness 
9* 


102  OLD-FASHIONED   REVIVALS. 

that  would  take  no  denial,  and  with  such 
strong  crying  and  tears  as  parents  only  know 
when  pleading  for  their  perishing  offspring, 
they  besought  the  Lord  to  have  mercy  on 
them  and  save  them  by  his  grace.  And 
then  they  sung  psalms,  Elder  Tompkins 
leading,  and  such  of  the  company  joining 
as  could  command  their  voices  in  the  midst 
of  the  deep  emotion  that  was  now  pervading 
all  hearts.  I  know  the  Holy  Spirit  was 
there  that  day.  I  felt  his  convicting  power. 
I  feel  the  force  of  the  impressions  then  made, 
this  moment.  It  was  not  then  that  1  was  led 
to  the  Savior.  But  afterward  when  the  al- 
lurements of  a  gay  world  were  around  me, 
and  a  thousand  influences  combined  to  draw 
me  down  to  ruin,  the  impressions  of  that 
meeting,  and  such  meetings,  were  like  hooks 
of  steel  to  hold  me  out  of  hell.  God  be 
praised  that  I  was  there,  and  I  hope  to 
praise  him  for  the  privilege  when  I  meet 
those  elders  with  the  other  elders  around 
the  throne.  There  were  many  children 
present  older  than  myself,  and  they,  too, 


OLD-FASHIONED   REVIVALS.  103 

were  much  affected  by  the  exercises.  I 
recollect  that  we  were  out  of  doors  at  the 
intermission  (for  we  met  at  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  with  an  interval  of 
half  an  hour  remained  until  three  P.  M.), 
and  then  we  had  an  opportunity  to  talk  the 
matter  over  together.  We  were  all  solemn  ; 
not  one  was  disposed  to  play  or  to  make 
fun  of  any  kind,  but  we  said  to  one  another 
in  our  own  way,  that  we  meant  to  try  and 
be  good.  Some  of  the  girls  got  together 
in  one  of  the  bedrooms  up  stairs,  and  had 
a  litde  prayer-meeting  by  themselves  during 
the  intermission ;  and  all  went  from  that 
place,  that  day,  with  serious  minds,  and 
some  were  pricked  to  the  heart. 

Another  meeting  of  the  same  character 
was  held  the  next  week  in  the  house  of  an 
elder  in  another  part  of  the  congregation, 
and  so  they  were  continued  from  house  to 
house  for  three  months.  And  God  heard 
the  prayers  of  his  people.  Three  of  the 
children  of  Joseph  Butler  were  converted 
immediately,  and  are  living  now,  to  bless 


104  OLD-FASHIONED    REVIVALS. 

God  for  those  meetings  ;  and  three  children 
of  another  elder  were  also  converted,  and 
some  of  the  others,  and  the  good  work  ex- 
tended beyond  the  families  of  the  elders 
into  the  congregation,  and  many  precious 
souls  were  brought  into  the  fold  of  Christ. 

But  I  am  perhaps  running  too  fast.  I 
would  like  to  go  back  to  one  great  revival 
that  pervaded  the  congregation,  biinging 
the  whole  town  under  its  influence,  and  from 
the  commencement,  progress,  and  fruits  of 
it,  show^  w^hat  old-fashioned  revivals  were, 
and  what  revivals  the  churches  need  now. 
May  God  send  them  often,  and  mighty 
ones,  till  the  day  of  final  consummation  ! 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Rogers  had  been  long 
lamenting  the  apparent  withdrawal  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  from  the  church.  His  ministry 
did  not  seem  to  be  blessed  to  the  conviction 
and  conversion  of  sinners,  and  his  hands 
began  to  hang  down  in  discouragement. 
Perhaps  his  own  soul  had  partaken  of  the 
general  apathy,  and  his  preaching  had  been 
less  pungent,  his  prayers  less  fervent  and 


OLD-FASHIONED    REVIVALS.  105 

faithful,  and  his  anxieties  had  subsided. 
As  the  hands  of  Moses  sunk  unless  they 
were  held  up  by  Aaron  and  Hur,  so  did 
INIr.  Rogers's.  About  this  time  he  was 
called  to  attend  a  great  ecclesiastical  meet- 
ing in  a  distant  part  of  the  country.  He 
was  necessarily  absent  several  weeks.  Dur- 
ing his  absence  the  people  met  regularly  on 
the  sabbath-day  to  hear  a  sermon  w4iich 
was  read  by  one  of  their  own  number,  and 
to  pray  for  themselves  and  their  beloved 
pastor  far  away.  They  did  not  run  to 
other  churches  to  hear  other  ministers,  but 
hovered  around  their  own  altar,  and  enjoy- 
ed themselves  there^  far  more  than  in  strange 
temples.  This  gives  a  hint  worth  remem- 
bering. Mr.  Rogers  was  also  benefited  by 
his  intercourse  with  ministerial  brethren 
whom  he  met  at  the  assembly  from  all  parts 
of  the  country.  Twenty-five  years  ago  our 
ecclesiastical  assemblies  were  more  siiiritual 
than  they  are  now ;  they  were  less  divided 
by  the  introduction  of  exciting  party  ques- 
tions, and  ministers   came  together  as  so 


106  OLD-FASHIONED   REVIVALS. 

many  brothers  of  one  family,  running  into 
one  another's  arms  after  a  long  separation. 
We  sometimes  had  such  meetings  on  a 
small  scale  up  in  the  old  congregation  ; 
the  ministers  from  neic:hborino;  churches 
would  assemble  to  transact  church  business ; 
and  it  was  all  done  with  such  a  spirit  of 
harmony  and  brotherly  love,  and  so  much 
time  would  be  spent  in  preaching  and  pray- 
ing, that  a  hallowed  influence  always  was 
exerted  by  them  on  the  people.  And  as 
the  ministers  quartered  at  different  houses 
during  the  meeting,  they  conversed  freely 
and  faithfully  with  parents  and  children  on 
the  concerns  of  their  souls,  and  lasting  and 
saving  impressions  were  thus  made  on  many 
minds.  So  it  was,  in  a  still  higher  degree 
and  in  a  more  extended  circle,  when  the 
great  assembly  of  ministers  from  widely 
distant  places  was  convened.  Its  sessions 
were  expected  with  intense  interest,  as  holy 
convocations  of  holy  men  ;  it  was  attended 
with  demonstrations  of  strong  fraternal  re- 
gard and  so  many  tokens   of  the   divine 


OLD-FASHIONED   REVIVALS.  107 

favor,  that  the  annual  meeting  was  a  pre- 
cious season  to  all  who  were  permitted  to 
enjoy  its  delightful  influence. 

From  such  a  meeting  as  this,  Mr.  Rogers 
returned  to  his  scattered  flock  and  secluded 
parish.  His  own  soul  had  been  refreshed 
and  quickened.  He  had  heard  of  the  pow- 
er of  the  gospel  in  other  parts  of  the  land  ; 
of  great  revivals  of  religion,  such  as  he 
longed  to  see  among  his  own  people  ;  he 
had  been  roused  by  the  exhibitions  of  zeal 
among  his  brethren,  and  had  been  impress- 
ed more  deeply,  perhaps,  than  ever,  that 
each  pastor  is  responsible  for  the  improve- 
ment of  his  own  vineyard.  He  came  home 
with  a  firm  determination,  relying  on  the 
strong  arm  of  sovereign  grace,  to  deliver 
his  own  soul  from  the  blood  of  his  people, 
by  doing  his  whole  duty  in  the  fear  of  God. 
Mr.  Rogers  was  not  a  man  of  impulse,  and 
when  he  took  a  resolution  like  the  one  just 
named,  it  was  a  princij)Ie  in  the  framework 
of  his  soul,  to  be  developed  steadily  and 
totally,  until  all  its  meaning  and  power  were 


108  OLD-FASHIONED    REVIVALS. 

answered.     He   would   do  what  duty  had 
bade  him,  and  if  sinners  wei'e  saved  and 
saints   edified,  he  would  rejoice  and  give 
God  the   praise  ;  if  his  labors  were  vain, 
and   the   seed  never  bore  fruit,  he  would 
still  be  clear,  and  God  should  accomplish 
his  own  righteous  will.     He  now  entered 
upon  a  thorough  exhibition  of  divine  truth, 
in  a  light   more  vivid  and  in  a  style  more 
pungent  and  convincing  than  he  had  ever 
preached  before.     He  took  the  law  of  God 
and  held  up  its  majesty  and  purity  with  a 
grandeur  that  startled  the  hearer,  as  if  the 
distant  thunder  of  Sinai  were  breaking  on 
his  trembling  ear.     Perhaps  his  forte  was 
to  take  what  we  call  the  strorig  truths  of  the 
gospel,  and  present  them  before  the  mind 
with  such  transparent  clearness,  that  men 
could  not  shut  their  eyes  against  the  con- 
victions thus  brought  home  to  their  hearts. 
When  he  had  pressed  on  them  the  claims 
of  the  divine  law,  its  high  requisitions,  its 
exceeding  breadth  and  strength,  which  no 
man  since  the  fall  of  Adam  had  fully  met 


OLD-FASHIONED    REVIVALS.  109 

and  answered,  he  then  set  forth  the  utter 
helplessness  of  self-ruined  man  without  the 
interposition  of  divine  recovering  grace. 
Then  came  the  duty  of  the  sinner  to  repent 
and  turn  to  God,  and  the  rich  provisions 
of  salvation  in  the  full  and  glorious  atone- 
ment of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ !  I  wish 
you  could  have  heard  him  on  these  themes, 
at  this  period  of  his  ministry.  He  was  in 
the  prime  of  life  and  the  very  acme  of  his 
physical  and  mental  powers ;  his  soul  roused 
by  communion  with  kindred  souls  and  with 
God,  while  the  souls  of  his  people  were  be- 
fore him  as  priceless,  yet  perishing  treas- 
ures, for  whose  salvation  he  must  labor  and 
give  account.  O  how  the  gospel  shook  the 
walls  of  the  Old  White  Meetinghouse,  when 
he  opened  the  terrors  of  the  law  to  persuade 
men  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  or 
hung  out  the  love  of  a  crucified  Redeemer, 
to  win  the  wandering  back  to  the  foot  of  the 
cross !  Often  do  I  seem  to  hear  those  calls, 
as  if  time  had  travelled  back,  and  I  were 
again  sitting  under  the  old  high  pulpit,  listen- 
10 


110  OLD-FASHIONED   REVIVALS. 

ing  to  the  trumpet-voice  of  my  old  pastor. 
But  it  is  past. 

Such  preaching,  joined  with  prayer,  for 
he  was  a  man  of  prayer,  could  not  be  in 
vain.  It  was  followed  up  with  judicious 
and  efficient  means  to  awaken  general  at- 
tention among  the  people.  Prayer-meet- 
ings were  established,  if  not  already  in  op- 
eration, in  all  the  neighborhoods.  The 
elders  met  often  with  the  pastor  for  private 
supplication  at  the  throne  of  grace,  and  from 
house  to  house  they  went,  two  and  two, 
warning  and  entreating  men  to  turn  unto 
God.  Soon  the  effects  became  visible. 
The  house  of  God  on  the  sabbath-day  was 
solemn  as  eternity.  The  evening  meetings 
were  attended  by  greater  numbers  than  be- 
fore, and  a  spirit  of  prayer  was  evidently 
poured  out  upon  those  who  met.  Here 
and  there  a  sinner  was  awakened  and  came 
to  the  pastor  to  learn  what  to  do  to  be 
saved. 

The  devil  saw  it  and  trembled.  He 
knew  that  his  power  was  in  danger,  and  re- 


THE    BALL.  Ill 

solved  to  have  a  fight  before  he  gave  up. 
His  first  attempt  was  a  cunning  stratagem 
to  lure  the  young  away  fi^om  serious  things, 
by  stirring  them  up  to  the  vanities  of  the 
world.  The  "  fourth  of  July"  was  just  at 
hand,  and  the  devil  put  it  into  the  hearts  of 
the  young  to  get  up  a  grand  "ball,"  to  be 
held  in  the  tavern  that  stood  across  the  green, 
directly  in  front  of  the  meetinghouse  !  This 
was  a  masterly  stroke  of  policy.  A  ball 
was  a  novelty  almost  unheard  of  in  that 
place  ;  and  at  that  season  of  the  year,  it  was 
altogether  a  singular  affair.  But  with  the 
aid  of  some  blades  from  distant  villages,  the 
arrangements  were  made  in  spite  of  the  re- 
monstrances, and  even  the  entreaties  of  the 
pious  portion  of  the  people.  Some  of  the 
daughters  of  church-members  were  so  much 
elated  with  the  idea  of  going  to  a  ball,  that 
no  means  short  of  compulsion  would  avail 
to  deter  them.  Mr.  Rogers,  true  to  his 
office,  on  the  sabbath  before  it  was  to  come 
off,  having  failed  by  private  counsel  to 
break  it  up,  went  into  his  pulpit  girt  with 


112  THE   BALL. 

the  armor  of  God,  and  there  denounced  the 
intended  dance  as  a  bold  and  damnable  de- 
vice of  Satan  to  resist  and  quench  the  Holy 
Spirit,  that  in  great  mercy  had  at  last  come 
down  among  them  on  a  visit  of  salvation. 
He  warned  the  young  of  the  desperate  game 
they  were  playing,  of  the  madness  of  rush- 
ing against  the  thick  bosses  of  Jehovah's 
buckler,  and  of  the  peril  in  which  they  put 
their  immortal  souls  by  engaging  in  worldly 
amusements  with  the  avowed  design  of  dis- 
sipating religious  impressions,  whose  pres- 
ence they  could  not  deny.  This  note  of 
alarm  had  the  desired  effect  upon  some  of 
the  more  conscientious,  but  the  most  of 
them  had  gone  so  far  in  the  arrangements 
that  they  were  not  willing  to  give  it  up.  So 
Mr.  Rogers  had  supposed ;  and,  therefore, 
in  anticipation  of  just  this  result,  at  the  close 
of  his  sermon,  he  gave  notice  that  the 
church  would  be  open  for  public  prayer  in 
behalf  of  the  '*  ball,"  the  meeting  for  prayer 
to  commence  at  the  time  set  for  the  "  ball" 
to  begin ! ! 


THE   BALL.  113 

Was  there  ever  such  a  thing  heard  of 
since    dancing   was   invented?     Who   but 
Mr.  Rogers  would  have  thought  of  a  prayer- 
meeting  for  a  "  ball"?      And    both   meet- 
ings were  held  ;  the  praying  people,  fathers, 
and  mothers,  and   many  of  their  children 
with  them,  came  to  the  meetinghouse,  and 
(it  being  in  July)  the  doors  and  windows 
were  wide  open  while  they  sang  and  prayed, 
and  within  hearing,  the  young  folks  assem- 
bled in  the  ball-room,  and  to  the  sound  of 
the  fiddle  danced  while  the  church  prayed. 
The  solemn  psalm  was  heard  in  the   ball- 
room, and  the  screech  of  the  fiddle  crossed 
the  green  and  grated  on  the  ears  of  the  wor- 
shippers of  God  in  his  sacred  courts.     But 
the  ball  broke  down.     It  was   hot  work  to 
dance   in  hot  weather,  with   the   fire  of  a 
guilty  conscience  burning  like  hell   in  the 
breast.    It  is  a  fact  that  some  of  the  company 
were  convicted  of  sin  on  the  floor,  that  very 
day,  and  were  afterward  added  to  the  church. 
One  of  them  said  he  felt  when  he  tried  to 
dance,  as  if  his  heels  were  made  of  lead. 
10* 


114  THE   HORSERACE. 

He  had  no  heart  for  it.  The  revival  went 
on  gloriously,  and  the  devil  determined  to 
try  again. 

He  next  got  up  a  horserace.  This  is  a 
sport  peculiarly  his  own.  In  it  and  about 
it  there  is  so  much  of  his  spirit  and  Ids  work, 
that  any  one  might  know  that  the  life-giving 
genius  of  the  whole  thing  belongs  of  natural 
right  to  the  devil.  There  was  a  cluster  of 
houses  around  the  meetinghouse,  and  anoth- 
er half  a  mile  from  it  on  each  side,  and  the 
ground  a  dead  level  between,  and  this  was 
the  arena  selected  by  a  set  of  devil-inspired 
men  for  a  horserace.  In  a  quiet  commu- 
nity like  ours,  an  operation  of  this  kind 
could  not  fail  to  set  the  whole  mass  in  com- 
motion. It  was  very  rare  that  in  any  part 
of  the  town  the  thing  was  attempted,  but  to 
try  it  in  the  very  heart  of  the  place,  in  the 
public  street,  in  front  of  the  church,  was 
monstrous,  and  it  seems  incredible  that  men 
could  be  found  with  hardihood  enough  to 
undertake  it.  When  Mr.  Rogers  saw  the 
handbills  posted  up  in  the  streets  announ- 


THE   HORSERACE.  115 

cing  the  race  to  come  off  the  next  week,  he 
called  on  two  or  three  leading  men  to  en- 
gage them  in  the  necessary  steps  to  pre- 
vent the  projected  outrage.  But,  as  if  to 
show  how  successfully  the  evil  one  does 
sometimes  manage  his  plots,  these  men, 
who  were  usually  as  bold  as  a  lion,  now 
frankly  said  that  he  could  do  nothing ; 
people  would  race  horses,  and  perhaps  it 
was  best  to  let  them  have  their  own  w^ay — 
there  was  only  one  w^ay  to  stop  them,  and 
that  was  to  threaten  legal  prosecution,  as  it 
was  against  the  law,  and  this  might  only 
make  the  matter  worse.  Mr.  Rogers's  holy 
soul  was  moved  with  righteous  indignation. 
To  be  deserted  at  such  a  crisis  by  those  on 
whom  he  was  wont  to  rely,  was  a  blow  he 
had  not  expected,  and  he  took  his  own 
measures  accordingly.  He  went  to  his 
pulpit  the  next  sabbath  and  announced  his 
text,  *'  When  the  enemy  cometh  in  like  a 
flood,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  shall  lift  up  a 
standard  against  him."  In  words  of  fire  he 
warned  his  people  of  the  flood  of  vice  which 


116  THE  HORSERACE. 

was  coming  in  during  the  week  before  them, 
and  having  stated  what  unsuccessful  steps 
he  had  taken  to  put  a  stop  to  it,  he  entered 
his  solemn  and  public  protest  against  it  in 
the  presence  of  God,  and  threw  the  respon- 
sibility on  the  heads  of  those  who,  holding 
the  power  to  administer  the  law,  had  deter- 
mined to  sit  still  and  see  it  trampled  upon 
by  a  crew  of  lawless  men.  This  was  the 
standard  which  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  raised 
up  to  meet  the  emergency.  The  people 
were  struck  with  the  words  of  power  and 
truth,  as  well  as  with  the  holy  boldness  that 
clothed  the  preacher's  brow,  as  he  portrayed 
the  impending  evil,  and  their  consciences 
smote  them  that  they  had  been  so  quiet 
while  the  storm  had  been  gathering.  At 
the  close  of  divine  service,  'Squire  Garret, 
the  "  Old  Lawyer,"  as  he  was  called,  one 
of  the  oldest  and  most  influential  of  the  peo- 
ple, rose  in  his  pew  and  asked  the  heads  of 
the  congregation  to  remain  for  a  few  minutes 
while  they  considered  their  duty  in  view  of 
the  truth  to  which  they  had  just  listened. 


THE   HORSERACE.  117 

A  resolution  was  then  introduced  by  him, 
and  unanimously  adopted,  appointing  a  com- 
mittee to  prosecute  to  the  extremity  of  the 
law  all  persons  who  should  engage  in  the 
proposed  races,  and  denouncing  the  prac- 
tice as  one  which  no  good  citizen  or  Chris- 
tian would  uphold.  That  was  an  end  of 
the  horserace.  Mr.  Rogers  broke  that  up 
effectually.  The  managers  heard  of  the 
determined  measures  that  had  been  adopted, 
and  very  wisely  postponed  the  race  on  ac- 
count of  the  lameness  of  one  of  the  horses, 
that  never  got  well  enough  to  run  in  that 
neighborhood.     The  revival  went  on. 

There  were  many  things  about  that  revi- 
val which  I  remember  with  peculiar  inter- 
est, but  which  will  not  strike  the  reader  as 
peculiar.  The  stillness  of  the  evening 
meetings  was  most  remarkable.  These 
were  held  in  the  district  schoolhouses,  and 
being  conducted  chiefly  by  the  elders,  con- 
sisted almost  entirely  of  singing  and  fervent 
prayer.  There  was  no  irregularity,  no 
noise,  seldom  a  sob,  sometimes  a  deep  sigh 


118  THE   REVIVAL. 

that  might  be  heard  over  the  whole  house, 
but  there  were  at  all  times  such  tokens  of 
Divine  power  as  could  not  be  mistaken  or 
evaded.  And  when  the  hour  was  spent  the 
people  seemed  unwilling  to  go,  and  would 
still  sit  on  the  seats,  and  converse  with  each 
other  on  the  state  of  religion  in  their  own 
souls,  and  sometimes  they  would  pray  to- 
gether again,  or  some  one  would  strike  up 
a  tune,  with  some  favorite  hymn,  as, 

"  Jesus  !  and  shall  it  ever  be, 
A  mortal  man  ashamed  of  thee,'' 

and  then  the  meeting  would  seem  to  be  be- 
gun again.  We  had  no  "  anxious  seats," 
but  the  pastor  urged  all  those  who  wished 
to  have  conversation  on  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion to  visit  him  at  his  study,  or  to  call  on 
any  of  the  elders ;  and  he  spent  as  much 
time  as  he  could  in  going  from  house  to 
house,  instructing  the  young,  directing  the 
inquiring,  examining  the  grounds  on  which 
the  new  converts  were  resting  their  trem- 
bling hopes,  and  exhorting  the  careless  to 
awaken  from  their  stupidity  and  lay  hold  on 


THE   REVIVAL.  119 

eternal  life.  In  labors  he  was  abundant. 
But  no  labor  was  too  great  for  him  if  there- 
by he  might  save  the  souls  of  his  people. 
And  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  seemed  to  be 
on  him  and  with  him,  so  that  his  words 
were  set  home  upon  the  conscience  with  a 
cogency  that  impelled  conviction,  and  made 
any  open  resistance  useless.  The  deep 
depravity  of  the  human  heart  was  in  the 
way,  and  Mr.  Rogers  was  as  powerless  to 
deal  with  that  as  a  child.  But  he  dealt  out 
the  potent  truth  and  the  o}n?iipotent  Spirit 
did  the  rest.  Sinners  were  slain  and  made 
alive,  and  there  was  joy  in  heaven  over  re- 
penting souls. 

I  do  not  know  the  reason,  perhaps  others 
can  account  for  it,  though  I  only  know  the 
fact,  that  in  the  revivals  of  twenty-five  years 
ago,  conversions  were  not  so  sudden  as  they 
now  are.  It  was  no  unusual  thing  for  a 
person  to  go  six  weeks,  and  sometimes 
even  six  months  under  deep  conviction  of 
sin,  and  it  was  not  considered  strange,  though 
at  present  we  should  give  a  man  up  almost 


120  THE   REVIVAL. 

as  a  hopeless  case  who  should  resist  serious 
impressions  so  long  as  that.  Perhaps  the 
mode  of  instructing  awakened  sinners  is 
more  philosophical  now  than  it  was  then 
— I  do  not  believe  it  is  more  scriptural — 
and  they  may  be  led  more  directly  to  the 
contemplation  of  those  classes  of  truth  which 
demand  the  entire  acquiescence  of  the  heart 
in  the  act  of  submission  to  God.  But  one 
thing  is  quite  as  certain,  and  that  is,  there 
were  fewer  spurious  conversions  then  than 
now ;  and  our  modern  revivals  are  to  be 
tested  as  to  their  comparative  value  by  this 
as  well  as  other  facts.  Where  the  instruc- 
tion given  to  the  awakened  is  evangelical 
and  sound,  calculated  to  lead  the  sinner  to 
look  well  to  the  ground  on  which  he  rests 
his  soul  and  to  make  sure  work  for  eternity, 
few  cases  of  "  falling  away"  occur  when 
the  revival  subsides.  But  in  those  excite- 
ments where  sinners  are  told  to  submit, 
and  as  soon  as  they  say  they  are  willing, 
are  assured  that  they  are  converted,  as  it 
is  often  the  case,  it  is  to  be  expected  that 


THE    REVIVAL.  121 

many  will  deceive  themselves,  and,  by-and- 
by,  will  manifest  their  mistake  to  the  grief 
of  the  church  and  the  shame  of  the  cause. 

This  revival  began  in  the  heart  of  Mr. 
Rogers,  and  spread  gradually  but  widely 
among  the  hearts  of  his  whole  people.  The 
most  remote  hamlets  of  the  congregation, 
some  of  them  lying  twelve  miles  apart,  and 
six  from  the  church,  were  pervaded  by  the 
power  of  the  Holy  One,  and  many  an  hum- 
ble home  was  made  joyful  with  the  songs 
of  newborn  souls.  It  was  confined  to  no 
age.  The  young  were  the  most  frequent 
subjects,  for  there  were  few  hearers  who 
had  grown  old  in  sin.  But  many  young 
heads  of  families  were  brought  in,  who  im- 
mediately erected  the  family  altar,  and  as 
long  as  they  lived  were  consistent  and  ac- 
tive Christians.  One  or  two  grayheaded 
men,  who  had  stood  for  years  as  monu- 
ments of  sparing  mercy,  were  now  made 
monuments  of  sovereign  grace  ;  rescued  at 
the  eleventh  hour  from  the  verge  of  ruin. 

A  stout-hearted  and  stout-bodied  farmer 
11 


122  THE    REVIVAL. 

who  had  reached  the  half-way  house  of 
life  was  convicted  of  sin.  He  had  been 
a  pattern  of  morality  in  the  world,  and  no 
man  could  say  that  Mr.  McAlley  was  ever 
known  to  do  that  which  was  wrong  to  a 
neighbor.  But  he  had  in  his  breast  a 
wicked  heart  of  unbelief;  and  when  the 
Holy  Spirit  touched  that  heart,  Mr.  M. 
felt  that  he  was  a  sinner  and  must  be  born 
again.  At  first  he  tried  to  build  a  hope  of 
final  salvation  on  the  moral  life  he  had  led, 
and  the  many  good  things  he  had  done  for 
the  church.  And  no  one  was  more  liberal 
to  support  the  gospel  and  to  contribute  to 
every  charitable  object  than  he ;  but  what 
were  these  things  to  quiet  a  conscience  that 
God  had  roused,  and  to  save  from  hell  that 
God  had  threatened  to  all  who  do  not  re- 
pent and  believe.  The  stricken  sinner 
turned  with  disgust  from  his  own  righteous- 
ness, and  sought  the  Savior  as  the  only 
ground  of  hope.  He  went  to  his  pastor, 
the  good  Mr.  Rogers,  for  advice  in  this 
hour  of  deep  distress,  and  was  told  to  recent 


THE   REVIVAL.  123 

and  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He 
went  away  and  came  again.  Again  he  re- 
ceived the  same  counsel,  and  Mr.  Rogers 
prayed  with  him,  and  endeavored  to  con- 
vince him  that  he  was  resisting  the  Holy 
Spirit,  refusing  to  submit  to  the  humbling 
terms  of  the  gospel,  and  accept  salvation  as 
the  free  gift  of  God.  Mr.  McAlley  would 
not  believe  that  he  was  thus  proud  and 
rebellious,  but  declared  again  and  again 
that  he  was  willing  to  do  anytldng  in  the 
world,  if  God  would  only  have  mercy  on 
him.  Thus  he  was  flying  back  to  his  own 
works  all  the  while,  and  trying  to  work  out 
a  plan  of  his  own  that  would  answer  instead 
of  that  plan  which  strips  the  sinner  of  his 
own  merit,  and  lays  him  a  helpless  beggar 
at  the  footstool  of  sovereign  mercy.  One 
sabbath-day,  after  he  had  been  under  con- 
viction for  some  months,  he  followed  Mr. 
Rogers  home  from  church,  and  entered  it 
just  as  the  good  pastor,  exhausted  with  his 
arduous  labors,  had  thrown  himself  into  his 
great  arm-chair.     Mr.  McAIIey  began  : — 


124  THE   REVIVAL. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Rogers,  I'm  pretty  much 
discouraged.  I  have  tried  to  do  what 
you  have  told  me ;  I  have  prayed  and 
prayed,  and  tried  to  repent  and  believe,  and 
I  do  not  see  that  I  can  do  anything  more." 

The  kind-hearted  pastor  looked  up  at  him 
as  thefarmerstoodin  the  middle  of  the  study, 
and  said  : — 

*'  O,  yes,  there  is  one  thing  more  you  can 
do  ;  you  can  go  down  to  hell  with  your  sins 
on  your  soul." 

The  farmer's  spirit  was  broken  by  that 
sudden  and  awful  tliought.  Was  it  true 
that  nothing  remained  for  him  but  a  fearful 
looking  for  judgment  and  fiery  indignation  ? 
Had  he  sinned  away  his  day  of  grace ; 
grieved  the  Holy  Spirit  and  made  his  own 
destruction  sure?  He  turned  away  in 
silence,  and  with  a  crushed  heart  left  the 
pastor's  house  for  his  own.  He  had  some 
miles  to  go,  and  it  was  in  the  cool  of  a 
summer  sabbath.  On  his  way  homeward, 
he  was  enabled  to  yield  his  proud  spirit  to 
the  gentle  reign  of  Jesus,  and  to  embrace 


THE   REVIVAL.  125 

the  Savior  in  his  beauty  and  love.  From 
that  sabbath  he  was  one  of  the  most  ex- 
emplary Christians  in  that  congregation. 
Some  years  afterward  he  was  chosen  an 
elder  in  the  church,  which  office  he  still 
adorns,  if  he  has  not  been  translated  to  a 
higher  service. 

Several  other  instances  to  illustrate  the 
skill  of  Mr.  Rogers  in  dealing  with  inquir- 
ing sinners,  but  more  to  magnify  the  riches 
of  God's  grace,  occur  to  me,  but  1  have 
made  this  narrative  already  too  long.  Yet 
it  is  well,  it  is  sweet,  instructive,  animating 
to  recall  those  seasons  of  revival  when 
the  whole  congregation,  from  the  centre  to 
its  wide  circumference,  was  shaken  by  the 
power  of  the  Spirit;  when  every  house 
was  filled  with  the  influences  of  the  work, 
and  many  were  brought  out  of  darkness  into 
the  gospel's  marvellous  light.  Revivals 
have  since  been  enjoyed  in  the  same  con- 
gregation, but  the  one  to  which  I  have  re- 
ferred was  the  most  pervading  and  power- 
ful, and  its  fruits  the  most  permanent. 
11* 


-126  THE   REVIVAL. 

This  is  no  place,  even  if  I  had  time,  to 
speak  of  the  means  to  be  employed  in  the 
promotion  of  pure  and  undefiled  revivals  of 
religion.  But  the  experience  of  past  years 
is  full  of  instruction  on  this  great  subject ; 
a  subject  intimately  allied  with  the  prosperi- 
ty of  Zion  and  the  salvation  of  men.  A 
pure  revival  is  the  work  of  God's  Spirit, 
whereby  the  church  is  awakened  to  a  sense 
of  its  obligations  and  privileges,  and  in 
answer  to  the  prayers  of  God's  people, 
sinners  are  convicted  and  converted.  The 
theory  of  revivals  is  very  simple,  but  he 
that  w^inneth  souls  is  wise.  The  pastor 
who  desires  to  see  his  congregation  revived, 
will  seek  the  Spirit  for  his  own  soul,  and 
will  preach  as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men. 
He  will  be  instant  in  season  and  out  of 
season  to  reprove  and  exhort.  He  will 
not  fail  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of 
God.  Leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  Almighty, 
he  will  address  himself  to  the  work,  and 
wrestle  like  Jacob,  and  plead  like  Paul. 
God  will  hear,  and  he  loves  to  bless. 


THE  REVIVAL.  127 

"  O  that  the  salvation  of  Israel  were 
come  out  of  Zion !  When  the  Lord  bring- 
eth  back  the  captivity  of  his  people,  Jacob 
shall  rejoice,  and  Israel  shall  be  glad." 


128  SPINNING-BEES. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SPINNING-BEES — APPLE-PARINGS — WEDDINGS. 

In  the  retirement  of  a  secluded  parish 
like  ours,  you  would  hardly  look  for  much 
in  the  way  of  amusements.  Of  course,  we 
had  no  theatres  nor  circus,  nor  any  of  the 
hundred  playhouses  that  abound  in,  and 
curse  this  great  city.  But  we  had  some 
means  of  amusement,  and  if  they  were  not 
so  fashionable  or  refined  as  a  comedy  or 
the  opera,  they  were  far  more  rational, 
useful,  and  free  from  all  objections  on  the 
score  of  evil.  Now  I  may  be  able  to  tell 
you  something  of  our  country  pastimes, 
which  will  serve  to  compensate  for  the  dul- 
ness  of  some  of  my  former  chapters ;  yet 
if  they  should  prove  to  be  no  better  than 
they,  I  shall  not  be  greatly  disappointed. 
And  I  will  begin  in  the  first  place  (as  Mr. 


SPINNING-BEES.  129 

Rogers  used  to  say),  with  our  spinning- 
bees.  Many  a  city  reader  never  heard  of 
a  spinning-bee !  Was  it  a  general  gathering 
of  the  good  women  of  the  parish  with  their 
spinning-wheels  ?  This  may  have  been  the 
fact  in  a  period  of  time  to  which  my  memo- 
ry runneth  not  back,  but  such  was  not  the 
meaning  of  the  term  in  the  days  of  my  boy- 
hood. A  "  bee"  was,  and  is,  the  name 
given  to  a  union  of  forces  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  any  given  enterprise,  which 
the  strength  of  one  farmer  and  his  "hands" 
could  not  achieve.  Or  it  might  be  that 
the  work  ought  to  be  done  up  at  once,  and 
time  would  be  saved  by  getting  the  help 
of  the  neighbors,  or  it  might  be  again  that 
they  wanted  a  frolic  more  than  they  wanted 
work,  and  in  all  these  and  other  instances, 
it  was  a  common  jhing  to  invite  the  people 
far  and  near  to  come  and  take  hold  :  and 
at  such  times  there  was  plenty  of  cider  and 
fun,  so  that  the  work  was  play,  and  such 
gatherings  were  looked  upon  as  pastimes, 
rather  than  as  labors.    Such  were  chopping- 


130  SPINNING-BEES. 

bees,  and  husklng-bees.  and  apple-bees, 
and  the  like,  some  of  which  may  come  into 
this  chapter,  when  I  have  finished  the  de- 
scription of  the  one  I  have  begun.  Very 
likely  in  old,  very  old  times,  the  people  did 
sometimes  come  together  with  their  wheels, 
and  in  concert  spin  ever  so  many  skeins  of 
yarn  at  once,  helping  one  another  by  mutual 
gossip,  and  cheered  by  a  social  cup  of  tea. 
But  in  the  comparatively  modern  times  that 
embrace  the  period  of  my  youth  (how  re- 
spectable that  sounds),  a  "  spinning-bee" 
signified  a  visit  given  to  the  minister  by  his 
congregation,  on  which  occasion  they  pre- 
sented him  with  various  articles  useful  to 
him  in  the  way  of  housekeeping,  of  various 
sorts,  according  to  the  taste  and  ability  of 
the  donor.  It  was  usually  held  in  the  win- 
ter, and  as  yarn,  of  linen  or  woollen,  was 
the  principal  article  of  donation,  it  came  to 
pass  that  the  name  of  "  spinning-bee"  was 
given  to  it  as  its  distinctive  application, 
though,  as  I  have  said,  it  may  be  that  for- 
merly they  brought  their  wheels  also. 


SPINNING-BEES.  131 

The  plan  of  operation,  or  the  order  of 
exercises,  was  somewhat  on  this  wise.  Very 
early  in  the  afternoon,  the  wagons,  or  sleighs, 
if  there  was  snow,  began  to  arrive.  This 
coming  to  tea  at  eighty  teri,  or  twelve  o'clock 
at  night  is  a  pestilent  practice,  never  heard 
of  up  in  the  country  where  I  lived.  In  that 
goodly  place,  and  in  those  goodly  times,  no 
sooner  was  dinner  over  (and  dinner  was  at 
noon)  than  the  women  began  to  get  ready, 
if  they  were  going  out  to  tea,  and  by  one  or 
two  o'clock  they  were  on  the  way.  Three 
was  late,  and  if  by  any  accident  the  compa- 
ny was  delayed  till  four  or  five,  they  were 
given  up  as  "not  coming"  that  day. 

As  the  various  teams  arriv^ed,  the  farmers' 
wives  came  with  baskets  and  bundles,  the 
former  well  stored  with  biscuits,  doughnuts, 
and  crullers,  which  were  designed  for  the 
tea-table,  and  the  bundle  containing  the 
more  substantial  present  which  they  had 
brought  in  token  of  their  attachment  to  the 
pastor.  Some  retired  room  was  set  apart 
for  the  reception  of  these  gifts,  and  there 


132  SPINNING-BEES. 

the  pastor's  wife  received  each  friend  as  she 
arrived,  and  thanked  her  kindly  for  the  very 
welcome  ofFerinof.  One  would  brins;  two 
or  three  pairs  of  nice  woollen  stockings,  and 
she  was  assured  that  nothing  could  be  more 
acceptable.  Another  had  brought  some 
homespun  and  home-made  linen,  white  as 
the  driven  snow,  or  woollen  which  her  own 
hands  had  woven  into  good  substantial  cloth 
for  children's  clothes,  and  as  she  drew  forth 
her  goodly  gifts,  an  air  of  conscious  pride 
was  in  her  face,  as  she  expressed  her  regret 
that  she  could  offer  nothing  better.  Mrs. 
Rogers  expressed  her  gratitude  in  very  few 
words,  and  was  scarcely  heard  before  she 
turned  to  shake  hands  with  another  lady 
who  had  just  arrived  with  a  noble  cheese  ! 
This  was  the  fruit  of  the  giver's  own  labor; 
she  had  managed  her  dairy  herself,  with  the 
help  of  her  two  daughters,  each  of  whom 
now  presented  sundry  rolls  of  golden  butter, 
that  kings  might  long  to  have  and  not  be 
able  to  get.  Then  came  others,  and  by  this 
time  the  room  was  full  of  ladies,  all  of  whom 


SPINNING-BEES.  133 

had  come  laden  with  the  produce  of  their 
own  industry,  and  now  found  a  sweet  reward 
of  their  toil  in  the  thought  of  bestowing  it 
on  those  whom  they  loved.  In  another  part 
of  the  house  the  menfolks  were  gathered, 
some  of  them  having  taken  pains  to  put  into 
the  wagon  a  few  bushels  of  grain,  or  a  quar- 
ter of  beef,  or  something  in  that  line,  and 
they  found  a  place  to  deposite  it,  and  Mr. 
Rogers  was  now  engaged  in  profitable  dis- 
course with  them ;  a  privilege  which  the 
most  of  them  had  intellio-ence  enouo:h  to 
appreciate  and  enjoy.  Soon  the  company 
was  all  assembled  in  the  parlor  of  the  par- 
sonage, and  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  was 
spent  in  free  and  easy  conversation.  Here 
was  a  fine  opportunity  for  those  living  far 
apart  to  form  acquaintance  with  one  another, 
and  thus  the  most  distant  portions  of  the 
congregation  were  united  in  friendship  and 
good  neighborhood,  as  they  never  would 
have  been  but  for  these  annual  gatherings 
at  the  minister's  house.  In  one  corner  of 
the  room,  or  in  another  room,  the  young 
12 


134  SPINNING-BEES. 

people  were  together,  amusing  themselves 
as  young  people  will ;  some  of  them,  per- 
haps the  children,  engaged  in  some  innocent 
play,  and  the  rest  making  such  entertain- 
ment as  became  their  years,  while  the 
smothered  laugh,  and  the  half-hid  practical 
joke  which  was  now  and  then  attempted, 
showed  that  they  understood  very  well  that 
they  were  in  the  minister's  house,  and  that 
the  old  folks  were  within  hearing.  Thus 
the  afternoon  passed  away,  rapidly  and 
pleasantly,  until  the  tea  was  ready.  The 
tables — all  the  tables  in  the  house — were 
spread  in  the  kitchen,  if  there  was  no  other 
part  of  the  house  that  could  be  used  for 
such  a  service,  and  loaded  with  the  good 
it>>mg5  which  the  company  had  brought.  It 
was  not  expected  that  Mrs.  Rogers  would 
furnish  any  part  of  the  entertainment.  Some 
of  the  more  notable  women  of  the  parish 
superintended  the  table,  seeing  that  every 
thing  was  in  "  apple-pie  order,"  and  when 
this  was  done,  they  would  ask  out  to  the 
*' first  table"  as  many  of  the  older  set  as 


SPINNING-BEES.  135 

could  be  accommodated  at  once.  Perhaps 
there  were  places  at  the  table  for  thirty,  and 
when  these  had  "well  drunk,"  the  next  set 
was  invited  out,  and  then  another,  till  all, 
including  the  little  ones,  who  waited  till  the 
last,  had  been  served.  These  various  ta- 
bles were  waited  upon  by  some  of  the  young 
ladies,  who  esteemed  it  an  honor  to  distin- 
guish themselves  on  such  an  occasion,  by 
showing  their  skill  in  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant parts  of  housekeeping,  and  if  they 
should  thus  commend  themselves  to  the 
favorable  notice  of  any  observant  youth  of 
the  other  sex,  it  would  be  no  matter  of  sur- 
prise. 

These  operations  being  now  concluded, 
the  company  were  once  more  assembled  in 
the  front  rooms  of  the  parsonage,  and  the 
shades  of  evening  giving  notice  that  it  was 
about  time  to  be  "getting  their  things,"  and 
starting  for  home,  Mr.  Rogers  begs  them 
to  sit  still  a  few  moments  longer.  He  then 
in  few  words,  and  with  great  propriety  of 
language,  speaks  of  the  pleasure  which  he 


136  SPINNING-BEES. 

and  his  family  had  enjoyed  in  the  society 
of  their  friends,  the  gratitude  which  they 
desired  to  feel  for  the  varied  and  substantial 
proofs  of  their  kindness,  and  of  the  rich 
occasion  which  he  and  his  people  had  for 
thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  bounties  of  his 
providence  with  which  their  lives  were 
crowned.  He  rejoiced  that  their  lot  had 
been  cast  in  the  midst  of  so  much  that  called 
for  grateful  acknowledgment,  and  he  in- 
dulged the  hope  that  they  would  so  improve 
their  manifold  mercies,  that  the  good  Giver 
of  them  all  would  not  be  tempted  to  take 
them  away  to  bestow  them  on  those  who 
should  improve  them  more  to  his  praise. 
He  then  read  a  psalm  which  was  sung  with 
great  spirit,  after  which  they  all  knelt  down, 
and  Mr.  Rogers  led  them  to  the  throne  of 
Divine  Grace  in  fervent  prayer,  invoking  the 
choicest  of  Heaven's  blessings  on  them  and 
their  households  to  the  latest  generation. 

This  was  the  signal  for  breaking  up. 
Each  family,  as  they  retired,  shook  hands 
with  the  good  pastor  and  his  wife,  and  made 


SPINNING-BEES.  137 

them  "promise  to  come  and  see  them,"  and 
with  many  assurances  of  continued  regard 
they  found  the  way  to  their  respective  ve- 
hicles and  homes.  After  they  had  all  gone, 
or  perhaps  on  the  following  day,  Mrs.  Ro- 
gers proceeds  to  parcel  out  the  various  com- 
modities, to  see  what  use  could  be  made 
of  matters  and  things  in  general  which  had 
been  received.  The  most  valuable  pres- 
ents had  been  linen  yarn,  which  was  now 
to  be  sorted  according  to  its  quality,  and 
woven  by  hand ;  for  in  those  days  there 
were  few  factories  in  the  country,  and  none 
in  those  parts.  Perhaps  the  whole  value 
of  one  of  these  visits  to  the  minister  and 
his  family  was  somewhere  about  a  hundred 
dollars,  but  the  chief  value  was  in  the 
pledge  thus  given  of  affectionate  interest, 
and  in  the  opportunity  of  bringing  the  peo- 
ple together  sociably,  on  common  ground, 
once  in  every  year.  It  has  always  seemed 
to  me  to  be  a  fact  deeply  to  be  regretted, 
that  in  our  city  and  village  congregations, 
the  members  have  so  little   social   inter- 

12* 


138  SPINNING-BEES. 

course,  and  are  oftentimes  utterly  unac- 
quainted with  one  another.  They  sit  in  the 
same  sanctuary,  and  at  the  same  commun- 
ion-table, often  follow  each  other  in  prayer 
at  the  so-called  social  meeting,  yet  they  can 
not  shake  hands  at  the  close  of  the  meeting, 
for  they  have  never  been  introduced  !  It 
was  quite  a  different  state  of  things  in  our 
country  church.  It  was  altogether  a  dif- 
ferent state  of  things  among  the  primitive 
Christians,  where  the  mutual  love  they  bore, 
the  tender  interest  which  they  discovered  in 
each  other,  was  pleasing  to  God,  and  aston- 
ishing to  the  unbelieving  world.  When  one 
member  suffered,  all  suffered  ;  but  where 
the  brethren  are  not  known  even  by  name, 
as  is  often  the  case  in  our  city  churches, 
how  can  the  flame  of  Christian  love  pervade 
their  hearts  and  cement  the  whole  as  the 
heart  of  one  man  ?  I  do  not  know  that 
"spinning-bees"  would  be  the  thing  for  a 
city  church  ;  but  the  establishment  of  some 
meetings  at  the  pastor's  house,  or  at  some 
other  suitable  place  where  all  might  come 


APPLE-PARING   BEES.  139 

together  on  an  equal  footing  for  the  purpose 
of  familiar  conversation,  to  exchange  views 
and  feelings  on  subjects  alike  dear  to  all, 
and  especially  where  the  circle  of  acquaint- 
ance might  be  extended  and  the  chain  of 
friendship  brightened,  could  not  fail  to  ex- 
ert the  most  salutary  influences.  This  is 
an  inference  which  I  did  not  intend  to  draw 
from  my  first  chapter  on  country  pastimes, 
and  it  may  strike  the  reader  as  it  does  me, 
out  of  place  ;  but  I  trust  the  importance  of 
the  suggestion  will  be  admitted,  and  we 
will  go  on  with  the  story. 

Apple-Paring  Bees. — The  name  de- 
fines the  thing.  But  they  were  fine  times, 
I  assure  my  readers,  and  I  have  not  grown 
so  old  but  sometimes  I  feel  as  if  I  would 
give  more  for  one  of  those  winter  evenings 
in  the  long  kitchen,  paring  apples  and  tel- 
ling stories,  than  for  all  the  fashionable  par- 
ties, with  music  and  mirth,  that  I  have  ever 
attended.  They  were  chiefly  confined  to 
the  young  folks,  and  were  usually  held  in 
the  latter  part  of  autumn,  or  early  in  the 


140  APPLE-PARING   BEES. 

winter.  It  was  customary  in  those  days, 
when  as  yet  there  was  no  objection  to  the 
free  use  of  cider,  to  make  a  large  quantity 
of  apples  into  "  applesauce,"  which  was 
done  by  boiling  apples  in  cider  after  they 
were  peeled  and  quartered ;  after  which 
they  were  stored  away  for  winter  consump- 
tion. A  large  quantity  of  apples  were  also 
pared,  quartered,  and  dried,  by  spreading 
them  on  boards  and  exposing  them  to  the 
sun,  or  by  stringing  them  and  hanging  them 
in  the  kitchen  or  on  the  sides  of  the  house. 
Now  it  was  no  small  affair  to  prepare  a 
dozen  bushels  of  apples  in  this  way,  but  the 
work  was  light  and  pleasant,  and  just  such 
work  as  it  is  far  pleasanter  to  do  with  others 
to  help  you,  than  to  do  alone ;  so  it  was 
common  to  assemble  the  young  men  and 
maidens  from  all  the  country  side,  or  at 
least,  as  many  as  the  kitchen,  the  scene  of 
action,  would  accommodate,  and  each  guest 
being  provided  with  a  knife,  and  a  dish  for 
his  chips,  the  work  was  begun  and  carried 
on  with  all  the  sprightliness  and  fun  which 


APPLE-PARING    BEES.  141 

you  would  naturally  expect  in  such  a  gath- 
ering. Plenty  of  new  cider,  not  strong 
enough  to  do  any  mischief,  was  at  hand, 
and  often  passed  around,  together  with  the 
apples  and  nuts,  and  all  went  "  merry  as  a 
marriage  bell."  The  boys  and  girls  were 
interspersed  to  give  variety  to  the  company  ; 
not  all  the  young  men  on  one  side,  and  all 
the  young  women  on  the  other,  as  is  the 
foolish  practice  in  some  of  the  churches 
where  the  seats  are  free  ;  but  each  choosing 
his  own  place,  and  showing  his  preferences 
by  slily  locating  himself  alongside  of  the  fair 
one  whose  ear  he  wished  to  command  during 
the  evening.  For  the  space  of  a  couple  of 
hours  the  work  would  go  forward  with 
spirit,  some  paring  the  apples,  and  passing 
them  to  others,  who  would  quarter  and  core 
them ;  while  others  still  would,  with  a  large 
needle  and  thread,  string  them  (like  enor- 
mous pearls)  prepared  to  be  suspended  for 
the  process  of  drying,  or  to  be  reserved  for 
boihng.  But  after  hard  work,  the  young 
folks  would  begin  to  complain  of  being  tired, 


142  APPLE-PARING    BEES. 

and  some  of  the  more  forward  would  hint 
the  expediency  of  taking  a  rest.  Soon  the 
labor  of  the  evening  was  suspended,  and  an 
innocent  but  diverting  play  was  proposed, 
in  which  all  joined  with  more  spirit  and 
glee  than  the  ballroom  would  show,  while 
the  merry  laugh  and  the  happy  hit  gave  the 
best  evidence  that  these  young  people  could 
be  cheerful  and  gay  without  even  the  knowl- 
edge of  one  of  the  ten  thousand  means  of 
amusement  which  our  city-bred  youth  deem 
indispensable.  Yet  these  fashionable  folly- 
seekers  would  probably  affect  a  blush,  and 
perhaps  an  exclamation  of  contempt,  if  I 
should  add  that  these  country  plays  not  un- 
frequently  sent  a  young  beau  to  inflict  a 
kiss  upon  the  half-hidden  and  reluctant 
cheek  of  the  "  one  he  liked  best,"  or  the 
"handsomest  girl  in  the  room;"  penalties 
to  be  paid  for  failure  in  the  game ;  but 
dreadful  as  such  rustic  practices  must  ap- 
pear to  the  refined  people  who  can  sit  half 
the  night  and  see  a  half-dressed  girl  dancing 
on  the  stage,  or  sit  in  the  Tabernacle,  as  I 


COUNTRY-WEDDINGS.  143 

have,  and  see  a  girl  with  bare  arms  and 
bosom  singing  for  the  edification  of  the 
Christian  people  of  New  York  ;  dreadful, 
I  say,  as  our  old-fashioned  rustic  plays  must 
seem  to  the  more  chaste  and  delicate  sensi- 
bilities of  the  refined  generation  that  now 
dwells  in  these  parts,  I  beg  to  indulge  the 
opinion  that  the  state  of  society  where  these 
dreadful  things  were  tolerated,  was  a  thou- 
sandfold more  virtuous  and  lovely  than  the 
artificial  laws  of  our  world  of  fashion  can 
ever  secure.  Certain  I  am,  that  if  any 
young  woman  had  ventured  into  church,  or 
into  an  evening  party,  dressed,  or  rather 
undressed,  as  I  have  seen  married  and  un- 
married females  in  parties  and  concerts,  &c., 
in  the  city  of  New  York,  she  would  have 
been  driven  out  of  society  as  one  who  was 
lost  to  the  first  dictates  of  female  propriety, 
and  unfit  to  mingle  with  the  virtuous  and 
pure. 

But  these  rural  amusements  were  more 
commonly  and  more  heartily  enjoyed  at  the 
COUNTRY-WEDDINGS   than    at    any   other 


144  COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 

gatherings.  These  parties  were  more  se- 
lect, and  being  often  composed  of  those 
families  only  who  were  connected  by  mar- 
riage, or  intimately  acquainted,  there  was 
less  restraint  thrown  around  them,  and  the 
young  people  gave  themselves  a  wider  mar- 
gin in  the  selection  of  their  sports  and  the 
imposition  of  their  penalties.  Now,  I  can 
readily  imagine  that  some  of  my  readers 
will  be  so  fastidious,  as  to  slightly  turn  up- 
ward their  facial  projections,  if  I  go  on  to 
recount  the  sports  of  the  young  at  a  country- 
wedding,  and  so  I  must  confine  myself  to 
as  general  and  cursory  a  view  of  the  facts 
as  will  be  consistent  with  my  duty  as  an 
impartial  and  fearless  historian  of  those 
times.  Am  I  at  liberty  to  say  nothing  of 
the  state  of  society  then  and  there  ?  May 
I  pass  by  in  silence  the  very  form  and  fea- 
ture of  the  folks,  in  those  circumstances 
where  character  is  developed,  and  the  pow- 
er of  the  instruction  they  received  was 
likely  to  exhibit  more  or  less  of  its  fruits  ? 
I  shall  therefore  tell  the  truth,  and  here  I 


COUNTRY-WEDDINGS.  145 

will  add  that  you  may  probably  search  the 
country  over  in  vain,  to  find  a  community 
where  fewer  youth  were  led  into  habits  of 
vice  than  in  the  old  country  congregation 
where  it  is  my  pride  to  say  I  had  my 
"  bringing  up."     But  the  weddings. 

These  were  not  merely  times  for  fun. 
A  marriage  ceremony  performed  by  Mr. 
Rogers,  w^as  a  solemn  season,  long  to  be 
remembered  by  those  more  immediately 
concerned,  and  well  calculated  to  produce 
a  good  impression  upon  all  who  heard 
it.  The  form  which  he  used  was  simple 
and  expressive,  the  vows  which  he  required 
were  tender,  scriptural,  and  strong,  the 
counsels  he  gave  were  weighty,  plain,  and 
so  affectionately  urged  upon  the  youthful 
pair,  that  they  could  scarcely  fail  to  be  re- 
membered and  referred  to  in  after  life. 
And  then  his  prayers — with  what  earnest- 
ness and  strength  he  would  commend  them 
to  the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
and  invoke  upon  them  the  blessings  prom- 
ised to  the  families  that  call  on  his  name. 
13 


146  COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 

In  the  midst  of  these  services  the  most  de- 
vout solemnity  always  reigned  ;  and  the 
parents  of  both  parties  appeared  to  feel  (as 
they  should)  that  a  most  momentous  step 
was  taken  by  their  children,  and  the  friends 
around  looked  on  as  if  each  had  an  interest 
at  heart  in  the  future  happiness  of  the  par- 
ties now  united  in  tender  and  holy  bonds. 
After  the  ceremony,  "  cake  and  wine"  were 
handed  around,  and  moderately  partaken 
of  by  the  company,  the  days  of  total  absti- 
nence being  in  the  future.  But  there  was 
no  more  drhiklng  after  that  single  glass, 
and  I  never  heard  that  any  weddings  were 
disgraced  by  such  scenes  of  excessive  in- 
dulgence in  liquors  as  have  become  com- 
mon in  these  latter  days.  Doubtless  many 
have  thought  it  right  and  proper  to  drink 
wine  freely  at  weddings,  though  they  would 
abstain  from  it  at  other  times,  and  thus  the 
example  of  sober  men  has  encouraged  the 
young  to  indulge  with  less  restraint. 

So  long  as  the  minister  remained,  there 
was  very  little  in  the  way  of  amusement ;  not 


COUNTRY-WEDDINGS.  147 

because  he  would  frown  upon  it,  nor  because 
the  amusements  were  to  be  such  as  would 
offend  any  serious  people  ;  but  there  was  a 
silent  reverence  always  felt  for  the  pastor 
that  forbade  any  mirth  in  his  presence,  and 
sobriety  was  therefore  a  tribute  involuntarily 
but  cheerfully  rendered  to  his  exalted  worth. 
The  young  folks  did  not  feel  free  to  laugh 
very  loud  or  to  play  very  hard  when  the 
minister  could  see  or  hear  them.  Mr. 
Rogers  understood  this  very  well,  and  after 
a  little  pleasant  conversation  with  the  family 
and  the  friends  he  withdrew  and  returned  to 
his  home.  This  was  the  signal  for  the 
sport  to  begin.  Two  or  three  youngsters 
immediately  proposed  as  many  different 
plays,  which  were  responded  to  according 
to  the  various  tastes  of  the  party,  till  at 
length  one  was  selected  by  the  prevailing 
voices,  with  the  promise  to  play  the  others 
afterward.  As  at  the  "  apple-paring,"  the 
great  attraction  of  these  plays  was  found  in 
the  fact  that  whoever  was  "  caught,"  either 
by  failing  to  "  catch  the  plate,"  or  to  '*  find 


148  COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 

the  slipper,"  or  in  any  other  of  the  opera- 
tions set  on  foot,  was  condemned  to  "  meas- 
ure off  so  many  yards  of  tape"  with  such  a 
young  lady,  or  to  walk  so  many  times  around 
the  room  in  company  with  another,  or  to 
perform  some  similar  penance^  the  more  of 
which  he  had  to  suffer,  the  more  agreeable 
it  was  to  him  and  his  partner.  Many  of 
these  plays  required  not  a  little  "  bodily  ex- 
ercise," and  there  was  quite  as  great  a  de- 
mand for  gracefulness  and  agility  as  in  the 
more  fashionable  amusement  of  dancing, 
which  I  never  knew  to  be  attempted  at  any 
of  these  parties.  Sometimes  the  older  folks 
would  catch  the  spirit  of  the  times,  and  en- 
ter with  great  zest  into  the  amusements  of 
their  children,  being  reminded  of  the  days 
long  since  gone  by  when  they  too  were 
young,  and  delighted  in  the  same  "  childish 
things."  Often  have  I  seen  a  grave  man 
of  gray  hairs  thus  renewing  his  youth,  ap- 
parently the  happiest  of  the  party,  and  the 
zeal  with  which  he  engaged  in  the  pastimes 
of  the  young,  gave  new  life  to  their  spirits, 


COUNTRT-WEDDINGS.  149 

and  all  were  as  blithe  and  gay  as  the  birds 
are  on  this  bright  May  morning  while  1 
write. 

It  was  no  very  rare  thing  for  them  to 
wind  up  the  plays  of  a  merry  evening  like 
this,  with  an  amusement  which  certainly 
was  censurable,  and  now  that  I  look  back 
upon  it  I  am  led  to  wonder  that  they  should 
ever  venture  upon  it ;  I  mean  a  "  wedding 
in  fun^  True,  this  performance  was  not 
attended  with  any  of  the  solemnities  that  be- 
longed to  the  serious  service,  but  it  was 
taking  an  improper  liberty  with  a  subject 
and  ceremony  not  to  be  trifled  with,  and  I 
am  sorry  that  I  ever  had  a  hand  in  any  fol- 
lies of  that  sort.  Usually  a  young  couple 
would  be  found  who  had  no  great  objections 
to  standing  up  side  by  side,  and  one  of  the 
company  would  repeat  some  doggerel  poe- 
try, being  a  burlesque  upon  a  marriage 
form,  which  was  no  sooner  over  than  the 
whole  company  would  come  in  pairs  to 
salute  the  bride  ;  which  performance,  by  the 
way,  was  the  real  object  of  the  play.  In 
13* 


150  CORN-HUSKINGS. 

such  sports  as  these,  the  youth  amused 
themselves  until  ten  o'clock,  which  was  al- 
ways looked  upon  as  a  late  hour  to  be  out. 
Yet  it  was  nothing  strange  for  them  to  be 
so  much  engaged  in  their  sports  as  to  forget 
the  flight  of  time,  until  some  of  the  older 
ones  were  obliged  to  remind  them  that  it 
was  high  time  to  adjourn. 

No  space  is  left  for  me  in  this  chapter, 
and  it  will  not  do  for  me  to  resume  the 
theme  again,  to  say  anything  of  several  other 
*'  country  pastimes"  which  were  common 
in  the  days  whereof  I  am  now  writing.  I 
doubtless  had  a  taste  for  those  things  then, 
and  if  any  one  should  say  that  the  frosts  of 
age  had  not  killed  the  taste  quite  yet,  per- 
haps I  should  be  compelled  to  the  soft  im- 
peachment. "  Corn-huskings"  were  seasons 
of  great  enjoyment  among  the  young  farmers, 
when  they  came  together  in  the  barn  and 
husked  the  Indian  corn  which  had  been  cut 
up  by  the  roots  and  drawn  under  cover  for 
the  purpose.  This  was  a  combination  of 
labor  and  pleasure  which  I  never  fancied, 


CORN-HUSKINGS.  151 

and  of  which  I  shall  have  nothing  to  say. 
But  the  great  attraction  in  the  way  of  out- 
door winter  amusement,  was  sleighing ; 
parties  being  often  formed  of  young  people, 
and  older  ones  too,  to  drive  off  some  twelve 
or  fifteen  miles,  and  back  again,  to  the  sound 
of  as  many  strings  of  bells  as  each  man 
could  raise  for  the  occasion.  And  I  should 
like,  if  I  had  room,  to  say  something  about 
a  "  wood-bee"  that  took  place  every  winter, 
when  the  farmers  brought  each  of  them  a 
"  load  of  wood"  to  the  good  minister;  or 
they  would  meet  at  his  house  with  their 
teams,  and  proceed  to  the  forest  where  a 
lot  of  wood  had  been  cut  ready  for  his  use, 
and  in  the  course  of  the  day  they  would 
haul  enough  to  his  door  to  keep  him  warm 
for  a  year.  But  all  these  things  must  be 
left  untold.  I  very  much  fear  that  these 
chronicles  will  be  the  only  authentic  records 
to  which  posterity  can  refer  for  information 
about  my  native  parish,  and  it  pains  me  to 
think  how  much  I  must  leave  to  pass  into 
perpetual  obhvion. 


152  CORN-HUSKINGS. 

Those  who  have  but  a  slight  acquaintance 
with  the  ways  of  the  world  in  a  great  city, 
or  in  our  thriving  villages,  and,  indeed,  in 
the  country  at  the  present  day,  will  be 
struck  with  the  contrast  which  these  scenes 
present.  I  am  arrested  painfully  by  the 
thought  that  while  light  literature,  and  hand- 
some books,  and  popular  lectures,  and  pub- 
lic meetings,  offer  intellectual  entertainment 
to  our  youth,  they  are  also  tempted  con- 
tinually by  the  seductive  influences  of  a 
wricked  world,  to  indulge  in  those  pleasures 
that  endanger  the  immortal  soul.  Here  in 
the  city  I  would  live  as  I  would  in  China 
or  India  if  duty  called  me  there  ;  and, 
therefore,  the  children  whom  God  has  given 
me,  must  here  be  trained  for  this  world  and 
the  world  to  come.  But  often  does  my 
heart  turn  to  that  secluded  parish  among 
the  hills,  as  the  very  spot  where  I  would 
educate  my  children  for  eternity.  What 
though  the  elegances  of  life  were  there  un- 
known, and  nature  was  in  her  own  dress, 
and  men   and  women  walked  and  talked 


CORN-HUSKINGS.  153 

without  any  other  rule  than  virtue  and  good 
sense  prescribed !  What  though  there  were 
no  such  schools  of  morals  as  the  theatre, 
and  no  schools  of  manners  like  the  dancing- 
schools  of  the  metropolis  !  They  had  what 
was  better  far :  the  high  and  holy  principles 
of  truth  and  honesty  were  taught  to  them 
by  the  fireside,  and  from  the  pulpit ;  they 
saw  the  power  and  beauty  of  virtue  in  the 
example  set  before  them,  and  early  learned 
to  fear  God  and  keep  his  commandments. 
And  then  it  was  something  to  have  the 
character  formed  in  the  midst  of  nature's 
glorious  works ;  to  have  communion  with 
God  in  the  wide  temple  not  made  with 
hands ;  to  hear  and  see  him,  not  in  the 
wilderness  of  men's  workmanship  here  in 
the  city,  but  in  the  majesty  of  the  forest,  in 
the  simple  beauty  of  the  purling  stream, 
and  to  admire  his  ever-active  goodness  in 
the  springing,  growing,  ripening  grain.  O  ! 
it  is  a  good  thing  to  get  a  chain  from  these 
to  a  child's  heart ;  in  after-life  the  links 
will  hold  him  fast,  and  may  be  among  the 


154  CORN-HUSKINGS. 

last  to  yield  if  be  is  tempted  to  become  a 
prodigal.  Better  to  make  an  bonest  man, 
tbougb  be  never  wear  anytbing  but  a  tow 
frock,  than  to  train  a  finished  gentleman 
and  a  finished  rogue.  The  chances  are  a 
thousand  to  one  in  favor  of  the  country. 
Our  city  merchants  advertising  for  clerks, 
often  say,  "one  from  the  country  would  be 
preferred."  They  know  where  to  look  for 
good  boys.  And  although  many  may  have 
thought  my  account  of  our  up-country  plays 
not  sufficiendy  refined,  I  will  trust  to  their 
good  sense  to  acquit  me  of  any  intention  to 
offend  their  delicate  tastes,  while  I  have 
been  yielding  to  the  associations  of  early 
life  and  running  back  to  the  days  of  "Auld 
Lang  Syne." 


THE   SECRET   DISCIPLE.  155 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    SECRET    DISCIPLE. 

Near  my  father's  house  lived  a  farmer, 
who,  for  a  rarity  in  that  neighborhood,  was 
not  a  religious  man.  The  family  was  an 
irreligious  family  ;  attending  church,  it  is 
true,  and  so  far  as  a  public  example  went, 
paying  a  decent  respect  to  the  means  of 
grace.  This  they  must  have  done,  or  they 
could  have  had  no  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the 
people  among  whom  they  must  live.  It 
was  never  known  that  anyone  of  them  (and 
there  was  a  large  number  of  children)  had 
had  any  convictions  of  sin  or  serious  thoughts 
on  the  subject  of  religion.  They  were 
rapidly  growing  up ;  the  parents  had  be- 
come old,  and  almost  beyond  the  reach  of 
gracious  influence  ;  several  of  the  sons  and 
daughters  had  married,  and  settled  near  by: 


156  THE    SECRET    DISCIPLE. 

and  all  were  apparently  indifferent  to  the 
concerns  of  their  precious  souls.  Some  of 
the  boys  were  openly  profane  ;  neglecters 
of  divine  worship,  and  known  in  the  com- 
munity as  bad  men.  The  girls  were  not 
gay,  but  had  never  made  any  pretensions 
to  religion  ;  living  in  the  midst  of  the  gos- 
pel as  if  it  were  sent  to  all  but  them. 

Of  the  three  or  four  girls  now  grown  to 
womanhood,  there  was  one  who  was  known 
to  be  more  retiring  in  her  manners,  gentler 
in  her  disposition,  and  more  inclined  to  at- 
tend religious  meetings  than  any  of  the  rest. 
Yet  was  it  altogether  unknown  to  her  own 
sister©  and  parents  and  to  every  one  else 
that  even  she  was  ever  concerned  about 
her  soul  ;  and  her  quietness  of  manner  and 
occasional  seriousness  were  attributed  to 
the  fact  that  her  health  was  delicate,  though 
there  was  no  thought  of  her  being  disposed 
to  any  peculiar  disease.  It  was  now  draw- 
ing nigh  to  winter,  and  as  the  cold  weather 
increased,  it  was  observed  that  Sarah  had  a 
slight  cough  and  her  cheeks,  which  were 


THE    SECRET   DISCIPLE.  157 

naturally  free  from  color,  were  slightly 
tinged  with  a  hue  that  looked  like  returning 
health.  But  it  came  and  went  again,  and 
the  cough  increased,  and  Sarah's  strength, 
never  great,  was  failing,  and  before  winter 
was  over  she  was  confined  to  her  bed,  the 
marked  and  sealed  victim  of  consumption. 
Mr.  Roo-ers  had  watched  her  for  a  lono; 
time,  as  he  had  seen  her  quietly  dropping 
in  at  an  evening  prayer-meeting,  or  he  had 
detected  a  fixed  attention  and  apparent  in- 
terest under  the  preaching  of  the  word,  and 
when  it  was  known  that  her  health  was 
faihng  he  had  sought  an  early  occasion  to 
see  her  and  speak  with  her  of  the  things 
belonging  to  her  everlasting  peace.  As 
soon  as  she  could  converse  with  him  in 
private,  and  so  privately  that  none  of  the 
family  could  hear  the  confession  she  had  to 
make,  Sarah  stated  to  Mr.  Rogers  that  for 
more  than  a  year  past  she  had  cherished  a 
secret  and  trembling  hope  that  her  sins  had 
been  forgiven,  and  that  Jesus  was  her  Savior ! 
Mr.  Rogers  was  astonished,  almost  as  if  he 
14 


158  THE    SECRET    DISCIPLE. 

had  seen  a  vision.  To  have  found  a  dis- 
ciple of  Christ  in  that  family  was  a  discove- 
ry he  had  never  dreamed  of  making ;  and 
sooner  far  would  he  have  thought  of  being 
met  with  a  cold  repulse  when  he  came,  as 
a  faithful  minister  and  pastor,  to  urge  the 
claims  of  the  gospel  on  one  who  he  feared 
was  insensible  both  to  her  duty  and  danger. 
He  begged  her  to  open  her  heart  with  all 
freedom,  and  tell  him  by  what  way  she  had 
been  led  to  cherish  such  a  hope  as  seemed 
to  be  hovering  round  her  soul.  Taking 
courage  from  the  kindness  of  her  good 
pastor's  tone,  and  finding  a  sweet  relief  in 
the  very  thought  of  having  one  to  share  a 
secret  which  she  had  never  ivishcd  to  keep, 
Sarah  proceeded  at  once  to  say  that  for 
many  years  she  had  been  more  or  less 
anxious  as  to  the  future  :  she  had  listened 
with  attention  to  the  preaching  of  the  word, 
and  had  read  the  Bible  when  no  one  would 
know  it :  but  the  family  were  so  much  op- 
posed to  religion,  that  she  had  shrunk  from 
making  any  disclosure  of  her  feelings,  lest 


THE    SECRET    DISCIPLE.  159 

she  should  encounter  the  ridicule  and  op- 
position of  her  friends.  Often  the  words 
of  her  Savior  spoken  to  those  who  were 
afraid  to  confess  him  before  men,  had  fallen 
with  dreadful  power  on  her  burdened  heart, 
and  she  had  prayed  for  strength  to  over- 
come the  fear,  which  as  a  snare  had  bound 
her,  but  hitherto  she  had  not  been  able  to 
resist  the  temptation  to  silence.  But  now 
the  ice  was  broken.  She  had  told  some 
one  of  it,  and  she  was  willing  and  anxious 
that  the  world  should  know  that  she  would 
be  the  friend  and  follower  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  Her  parents,  and  brothers, 
and  sisters,  were  struck  dumb  at  the  an- 
nouncement that  one  of  their  number  wished 
to  be  a  Christian  !  Yet  Sarah  had  always 
been  so  mild  and  patient,  silent,  and  some- 
times sad,  that  they  were  ready  to  admit 
they  had  always  thought  "  Sally  was  trying 
to  be  good,"  though  she  had  said  nothing 
about  it. 

A  new  scene  opened  in  that  house  on  the 
day  that  this  revelation  was  made.     Sarah 


160  THE    SECRET    DISCIPLE. 

was  confined  to  her  bed,  and  symptoms 
had  appeared  too  plain  to  be  mistaken,  that 
a  disease  which  never  rests  was  silently 
working  its  way  through  the  frail  tenement 
that  confined  her  spirit,  but  a  joy  and  peace 
of  more  than  earthly  lustre  and  loveliness 
glowed  upon  her  face,  and  her  tongue, 
loosed  as  from  a  silence  of  life,  was  now 
constantly  speaking  of  the  wonderful  love 
of  Him  who  was  her  soul's  comfort  and 
stay.  She  called  her  aged  parents  to  her 
bedside  and  told  them  that  she  was  soon  to 
die,  that  they  were  soon  to  die,  that  the  pre- 
cious Savior  who  had  spoken  peace  to  her 
soul  was  also  able  and  willing  to  forgive 
their  sins  and  prepare  them  for  heaven, 
but  they  must  make  haste  to  repent,  or  they 
would  fail  of  eternal  life.  And  then  she 
pointed  to  the  skies,  and  spoke  of  the  judg- 
ment-seat of  Christ,  before  which  she  and 
they  would  shortly  stand,  and  with  all  the 
tender  emotion  that  must  swell  a  dying 
daughter's  heart,  as  she  pleads  with  her 
grayhaired    parents    on    the   verge    of  the 


THE   SECRET   DISCIPLE.  161 

grave,  she  besought  them  to  seek  the  Lord 
till  they  found  him,  and  make  sure  work 
for  the  dread  eternity  before  them.  Then 
she  called  her  brothers  and  sisters  around 
her,  and  from  time  to  time,  as  she  had 
strength  to  speak,  she  commended  the 
Savior  to  them  as  the  guide  of  their  youth, 
begging  them  to  forsake  their  sins,  and  to 
embrace  him  as  their  portion.  The  cold 
indifference  with  which  these  affectionate 
appeals  were  received  would  have  been 
discouraging  to  any  one  but  a  sister  who 
felt  that  there  was  hope  for  them  as  well  as 
for  her,  and  as  long  as  life  lingered  with 
her,  and  she  could  summon  strength  for 
the  dying  effort,  she  ceased  not  to  warn 
them  of  the  danger  of  their  ways,  and  to 
press  upon  them  the  love  and  compassion 
of  Him  whom  she  had  found  so  precious. 

She  lingered  along  through  the  winter 
and  the  spring ;  and  in  the  midst  of  summer, 
death  came  to  her  chamber  and  set  her 
spirit  free.  There  was  a  vast  assembly  at 
her  funeral ;  all  the  young  people  from  the 
14* 


l62  THE   SECRET  DISCIPLE. 

whole  country-side  assembled  ;  many  of 
them  had  long  known  her  and  her  sisters 
in  the  days  of  their  youthful  vanity  ;  and 
having  heard  that  she  had  secretly  turned 
from  the  world  to  God,  they  were  arrested 
for  a  moment  by  the  voice  of  Providence, 
and  came  to  follow  her  remains  to  the 
grave.  It  was  at  this  funeral  that  1  heard 
these  facts,  and  also  from  Mr.  Rogers,  a 
narrative  of  the  death-bed  experience  of 
this  young  lady.  Mr.  Rogers  said  that  it 
was  one  of  the  most  triumphant  and  wonder- 
ful scenes  he  had  witnessed  in  his  whole 
ministry.  From  the  hour  that  she  had 
found  grace  to  confess  Christ  before  men, 
he  had  revealed  himself  to  her  soul  with  a 
fulness  of  love  that  passed  all  understanding. 
It  was  dying  grace,  displayed  with  a  rich- 
ness and  depth  that  filled  her  with  joys  and 
rejoicings  which  no  words  were  adequate 
to  convey.  If  any  regret  was  mingled  with 
her  thoughts  of  an  early  death,  it  was  drawn 
from  the  fact  that  she  had  so  long  conceal- 
ed her  feelings ;  perhaps  if  she  had,  at  an 


THE   SECRET   DISCIPLE.  163 

earlier  day,  avowed  the  Lord  to  be  her 
God,  she  might  have  persuaded  those  she 
loved  to  come  with  her  in  the  way  to 
heaven.  As  the  weeks  of  weariness  and 
declension  wore  away,  her  soul  renewed 
its  strength,  and  delighted  in  flying  nearer 
and  nearer  to  the  celestial  world.  Visions, 
not  of  fancy,  but  visions  of  revealed  glory 
such  as  the  soul  sees  when  sin  is  dying 
daily,  and  loveliness  is  rising  in  beauty  and 
strength  on  the  ascending  spirit,  now  opened 
to  her  enraptured  eye,  and  she  described 
her  glorious  views  with  an  eloquence  and 
fervor  that  filled  her  friends  with  wonderful 
awe !  They  knew  not  what  it  meant. 
Their  ears  had  never  heard  such  sounds  ; 
the  very  walls  of  the  house  were  strangers 
to  the  voice  of  prayer  and  praise,  and  with 
silent  amazement  the  old  parents  sat  by  the 
side  of  that  dying  bed,  and,  as  if  stupefied 
by  the  sight,  beheld  their  daughter  trying 
her  wings  for  a  flight  to  the  throne  of  God. 
For  many  days  before  her  departure,  she 
lived  in  a  frame  of  mind  such  as  few  saints 


164  THE   SECRET   DISCIPLE. 

attain,  and  at  last,  when  the  hour  of  her 
departure  came,  she  cried,  "  O  grave !  where 
is  thy  victory  ?  O  death  !  where  is  thy 
sting  ?"  and  with  a  smile  that  would  have 
looked  sweet  on  a  seraph's  brow,  she  fell 
asleep  in  Jesus. 

The  relation  which  Mr.  Rogers  gave  at 
the  funeral,  made  a  deep  impression  on  the 
great  assembly,  and  not  a  few  of  the  young 
people  were  awakened  to  a  sense  of  their 
own  condition.  The  death  of  Sarah  was 
thus  made  the  life  of  others,  so  that  what 
she  had  failed  to  do  by  her  living  precepts, 
the  grace  of  God  was  able  to  accomplish 
through  her  dying  testimony.  Her  young- 
est brother  had  always  been  known  at  school 
and  among  his  playmates,  as  one  of  the 
dullest  boys  in  the  neighborhood,  and  there 
was  a  roughness  about  him  that  defied  all 
attempts  at  polish  or  improvement.  Some 
time  after  the  death  of  Sarah,  it  pleased  the 
Lord  to  awaken  this  youth  to  a  sense  of 
sin,  and  to  rouse  him  to  a  view  of  his  dan- 
ger.    With  characteristic  bluntness  he  spoke 


THE    SECRET   DISCIPLE.  165 

of  it  in  the  family,  and  they  laughed  at  him  ! 
They  would  not  believe  though  one  rose 
from  the  dead,  and  they  made  fun  of  the 
seriousness  of  this  lad.  He  was  very  tall, 
and  they  told  him  in  derision  that  if  he 
"  kept  on  growing  he  could  get  to  heaven 
easy  enough  ;"  when  he  went  to  the  garret 
or  some  retired  part  of  the  house  to  pray 
for  his  soul,  they  would  follow  him  and 
mock  his  anxieties,  and  annoy  him  so  that 
he  could  find  no  peace.  He  then  took  to 
the  barn  or  to  the  haystacks,  and  often  he 
would  go  far  away  into  the  woods,  and 
there,  where  no  ear  but  God's  could  hear 
him,  he  would  cry  for  mercy.  And  the 
Lord  God  heard  and  answered.  His  soul 
was  set  at  liberty,  and  he  rejoiced  in  the 
sweet  assurance  of  acceptance  and  pardon. 
He  suffered  persecution  for  Christ's  sake, 
and  took  it  joyfully.  Without  any  delay, 
he  avowed  his  purpose  to  be  the  Lord's, 
and  in  the  face  of  the  taunts  of  those  who 
had  not  long  ago  wept  at  the  grave  of  a 
pious  sister,  he  stood  up  before  the  world 


166  THE    SECRET    DISCIPLE. 

and  confessed  Christ  Jesus  to  be  his  portion 
and  all.  From  that  time  he  was  a  decided 
Christian.  It  was  interesting  to  observe 
in  him,  what  has  doubtless  often  been  ob- 
served in  others,  that  divine  grace  seemed 
to  supply  the  deficiencies  of  education,  and 
in  some  respects  even  of  natural  talents. 
Sure  I  am  that  some  of  the  most  eloquent 
prayers,  if  I  may  use  the  terms,  to  which  I 
have  ev^er  listened,  have  come  from  the  fire- 
touched  lips  of  holy  men  who  had  known 
little  of  any  book  but  the  Bible,  or  of  any 
school  but  the  school  of  Christ.  It  was 
eminently  true  of  this  young  disciple.  At 
a  single  step,  he  took  his  place  among  the 
most  acceptable  and  useful  Christians  in  the 
church.  When  called  upon  in  the  social 
meeting  to  lead  the  devotions  of  the  people, 
he  prayed  as  if  the  language  of  prayer  had 
long  been  familiar  :  the  words  of  inspiration 
fell  from  his  lips  as  fitly  and  readily,  as  if 
he  were  an  old  student  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  it  was  an  occasion  of  frequent  remark 
that  such  attainments  could  never  have  been 


THE    SECRET   DISCIPLE.  167 

expected  in  such  an  unpromising  youth. 
It  was  doubtless  a  fact  that  in  him,  as  in 
the  case  of  his  sister,  their  strong  natural 
powers  of  mind  were  never  developed  until 
grace  was  implanted  in  the  soul,  and  then 
they  shone  to  the  praise  of  Him  who  polish- 
ed them  for  himself.  I  can  mention  a 
single  remark  of  this  young  man  that  will 
show  his  spirit  and  his  acuteness.  Some 
years  after  his  conversion,  and  I  had  re- 
moved to  a  distant  place  of  residence,  he 
came  to  see  me,  and  very  soon  I  said  to 
him,  "Is  there  anything  interesting  in  the 
state  of  religion  in  the  old  church  '?" — 
"Nothing,"  he  answered,  and  I  added: — 
"  Are  the  people  united  now  ?" 
*'  Oh  yes  ;"  said  he,  "  they  are  all  froze 
together.'^'' 

Many  and  many  a  time  since  that,  I  have 
seen  a  church  uniled  in  the  same  manner  ; 
not  united  as  a  band  of  brethren,  loving  one 
another  and  the  service  of  a  common  mas- 
ter, striving  together  to  build  up  the  cause 
of  Christ  and  save  sinners  from  perishing 


168  THE    SECRET    DISCIPLE. 

in  their  sins  ;  but  united  as  a  stream  whose 
waters  have  been  chilled  by  the  frost,  and 
its  separate  drops  have  been  congealed  into 
one  cold  mass.  O  that  the  Sun  of  Righte- 
ousness would  shine  upon  such  unions,  dis- 
solve them,  and  cause  them  to  flow  on  to- 
gether to  water  and  fertilize  the  earth  ! 

Another,  and  widely  different  I'endniscence 
rises  this  moment  to  my  view,  and  1  know 
there  will  be  a  lesson  of  painful  interest  in 
its  recital.  I  feel  some  compunctions  about 
putting  the  facts  on  these  pages,  but  my 
scruples  "  for  old  acquaintance  sake,"  must 
yield  to  the  duty  I  have  undertaken,  and  I 
shall  therefore  write  as  freely  as  before.  \{ 
these  sketches  should  ever  fall  in  the  way 
of  those  who  recognise  the  portraits,  my 
trust  is  that  they  will  acquit  me  of  any  evil 
design  in  giving  them  to  the  world. 


THE   FOEGER.  169 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE   FORGER. 


In  our  congregation,  but  residing  at  some 
distance  from  the  church,  and  in  a  populous 
neighborhood,  there  was  a  family  of  more 
than  ordinary  intelligence  and  refinement. 
The  gentleman  had  been  in  professional 
life  in  a  distant  city,  and  having  acquired 
property  retired  to  our  pleasant  region,  and 
fixed  his  residence  on  a  large  farm  which 
he  had  purchased.  Dr.  Jones  mingled 
but  little  with  the  people,  his  tastes  leading 
him  rather  to  the  retirement  of  his  books 
and  the  society  of  a  few  friends  who  sought 
him  out.  His  chief  pleasure  was  in  his 
family,  consisting  only  of  his  wife  and 
daughter,  with  a  nephew  of  his  own  name, 
who  had  lived  with  him  as  his  son,  and  was 
15 


170  THE   FORGER. 

destined  to  be  i/i  law  acknowledged  as  such, 
when  the  young  man  and  the  doctor's 
daughter  were  old  enough  to  be  married. 
Young  Jones  had  studied  law,  and  having 
been  admitted  to  practice,  he  settled  down 
in  the  village,  near  the  Old  White  Meeting- 
house, and  entered  life  with  the  finest  pros- 
pect of  property  and  honor.  He  and  his 
cousin  had  loved  from  childhood  ;  both 
were  gifted  with  charms  of  person  and  mind 
that  are  not  often  equalled,  and  when  they 
were  married  it  was  a  common  remark  that 
"  a  handsomer  couple  were  seldom  seen." 
Younor  Jones  was  known  as  an  amiable 
youth,  and  without  those  bold  and  manly 
traits  of  character  that  command  attention 
at  first  glance,  he  was  silently  and  gradually 
winning  his  way  into  the  confidence  and 
esteem  of  the  community.  His  father-in- 
law  cheerfully  supplied  the  young  beginners 
with  the  means  of  starting  in  the  world,  and 
never  did  a  brighter  life  lie  in  the  distance 
than  that  on  which  they  looked.  But  Jones 
found  it  slow  work  to  get  into  business. 


THE   FORGER.  171 

He  went  into  court  with  no  cases  of  his 
own  to  manage  ;  while  others  less  able  than 
he,  were  busy,  and  some  of  them  had  more 
than  they  could  do,  he  was  idle.  He  began 
to  be  discouraged.  It  occurred  to  him  that 
he  must  make  a  show  of  business  if  he  had 
none  ;  he  would  live  in  style  and  make  a 
dash,  and  people  would  then  open  their 
eyes  and  say,  "What  a  smart  young  man 
that  must  be,  to  get  ahead  so  fast."  To 
carry  out  this  bad  purpose  required  more 
means  than  he  could  command.  He  drew 
upon  the  doctor  as  far  as  he  could,  until 
the  judicious  parent  counselled  him  to  live 
within  his  income,  and  by-and-by  told  him 
with  some  plainness  that  he  feared  he  was 
going  too  far  and  running  into  debt  beyond 
his  ability  to  pay.  The  young  lawyer  had 
by  this  time  got  a  taste  of  the  pleasures  of 
free  living,  and  had  no  notion  of  retracing 
his  steps  and  coming  down.  His  sweet 
wife  whispered  to  him  that  they  were  not 
as  happy  as  in  simpler  days,  but  he  spoke 
to  her  of  the  time  when  she  should  shine 


172  THE   FORGEE. 

as  one  so  lovely  ought,  and  flattered  her,  as 
women  may  be  flattered  by  those  they  love, 
into  silence. 

Soon  the  funds  were  running  low.  He 
borrowed  where  he  could,  and  his  credit, 
based  on  his  father-in-law's  known  abihty, 
was  sufficient  to  keep  him  up,  and  a  sus- 
picion of  his  integrity  had  never  crossed  the 
mind  of  any  one.  Suddenly,  and  as  if  one 
of  the  hills  had  been  shaken,  it  was  told  in 
the  streets  that  young  Jones  had  presented 
a  FORGED  NOTE  at  a  bank  in  a  city  about 
thirty  miles  off".  The  people  could  not  be- 
lieve it.  But  the  fact  was  too  true,  and  he 
had  been  successful  so  far  in  his  wicked- 
ness. He  had  indeed  forged  the  names  of 
some  of  the  most  substantial  citizens  of  the 
place  to  a  note,  he  had  even  written  his 
own  father-in-law's  name,  he  had  got  the 
note  discounted,  and  when  it  became  due 
it  was  of  course  protested,  and  sent  up  to 
our  quiet  town  to  be  collected,  when  in  an 
instant  the  forgery  was  discovered.  What 
a  blow  was  this  to  his  young  wife  :  happy 


THE   FORGER.  173 

in  her  ignorance  of  his  crime,  she  had 
caressed  him  to  the  hour  of  the  fatal  dis- 
closure, and  then  the  sympathy  of  friends 
would  have  fain  concealed  it  from  her  ;  but 
he,  the  husband  of  her  youth,  strained  her 
to  his  heart,  and  told  her  that  he  was  a  vil- 
lain and  must  fly  from  an  infamous  punish- 
ment that  might  speedily  overtake  him.  He 
did  fly.  It  was  late  in  the  autumn — I  think 
the  latter  part  off  November,  when  he  left 
his  wife  fainting  at  the  horrid  news  his  own 
lips  had  brought,  instead  of  the  kiss  that 
she  had  been  wont  to  receive,  and  just  in 
the  edge  of  evening,  of  a  cold,  dark  night, 
he  started  from  his  house  to  fly,  he  knew 
not  whither;  he  cared  not,  if  he  could  but 
get  away  from  himself  and  justice. 

As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  he  had  fled, 
the  proper  steps  were  taken  for  his  arrest. 
Yet  such  was  the  general  feeling  of  pity  for 
the  poor  wife  that  no  one  was  in  haste  to 
pursue  him.  A  warrant  was  however  is- 
sued, and  officers  despatched  who  succeed- 
15* 


174  THE   FORGER. 

ed,  aft^r  a  while,  in  overtaking  him,  and  he 
was  brought  back  for  trial.  Now  was  the 
time  to  test  the  strength  of  principle  among 
our  plain  people.  It  would  have  been  a 
very  easy  matter  to  raise  the  money  and 
pay  the  note,  and  perhaps  the  affair  could 
thus  be  compromised ;  and  there  were 
many  thoughts  of  doing  something  to  stay 
the  arm  of  the  law.  But  it  would  not  be 
right;  that  was  very  plain;  and  justice 
must  be  done,  though  hearts  break.  The 
prisoner  was  kept  in  close  confinement  for 
several  days,  while  there  was  some  delay 
in  the  attendance  of  witnesses  ;  and  young 
Jones,  watching  his  opportunity  with  sleep- 
less eye,  found  a  chance,  in  the  dead  of 
night,  to  get  out  of  the  house  where  he  was 
kept  under  the  care  of  two  constables,  who 
had  taken  turns  in  sleeping  both  at  a  time. 
When  they  waked  up,  their  prisoner  was 
gone.  The  alarm  was  given,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  a  number  of  men  weie  mounted  to 
give  chase.  A  thought  struck  one  of  them — 
he  must  have  been  a  man  of  feeling — and 


THE   FORGER.  175 

Stopping  the  rest,  he  said  to  them  that  "  he 
knew  Jones  would  not  go  out  of  the  village 
till  he  had  seen  his  wife  ;  there  was  no  use 
in  chasing  till  they  had  searched  his  own 
house."  The  party  therefore  proceeded 
with  great  caution  to  the  house  where  the 
stricken  wife  still  resided,  and  as  they 
stealthily  approached  the  door,  there  came 
a  cry  of  anguish  from  the  chamber,  which 
told  too  terribly  that  innocence  and  guilt 
were  wailing  in  each  other's  arms.  Not 
one  of  the  pursuers  had  a  heart  to  enter, 
and  disturb  those  lovers  in  their  WTCtched- 
ness,  but  quietly  surrounding  the  house, 
they  waited  for  him  to  emerge  and  fly. 
They  were  not  long  waiting.  The  embrace 
was  too  painful  to  be  long ;  the  guilty  hus- 
band tore  himself  away  from  the  sheltering 
arms  of  her  who  loved  him  in  his  fall,  and 
kissing  their  first-born  that  lay  in  his  place, 
he  rushed  once  more  from  the  home  he  had 
cursed,  and  which  he  should  never  enter 
again.  They  arrested  him  but  a  few  steps 
from   the    door,  so    gently  that  she  knew 


176  THE    FORGER. 

nothing  of  it,  and  conducted  him  back  to 
his  confinement. 

Again  he  managed  to  escape,  and  fearing 
to  repeat  his  visit,  he  fled  to  the  mountains. 
They  tracked  him  first  through  a  light  snow 
that  had  fallen,  but  he  eluded  pursuit  for  some 
time ;  wandering  in  the  woods,  sometimes 
venturing  to  a  farmhouse  where  he  was  not 
known,  to  get  something  to  eat,  but  uncer- 
tain where  to  go  or  what  to  do.  It  seemed 
to  be  a  public  duty  to  secure  him  if  possi- 
ble, and  a  large  number  of  citizens  turned 
out  in  a  body,  and  making  diligent  search, 
they  found  him  behind  a  heap  of  rubbish  in 
the  garret  of  an  old  house  in  which  he  had 
taken  refuge.  He  had  found  already  that 
the  way  of  transgressors  is  hard.  In  his 
haste  he  had  fallen  repeatedly,  and  bruised 
his  face  and  hands  ;  he  had  suffered  terri- 
bly from  hunger  and  cold ;  and  when  he 
was  dragged  from  his  hiding-place  his 
whole  appearance  was  so  changed  that  his 
own    acquaintance  would   scarcely  believe 


THE    FORGER.  177 

that  this  was  the  young  and  handsome  law- 
yer whom  they  had  often  seen  before. 

His  trial  came  on,  and  he  had  no  defence 
to  make.  He  was  sentenced  to  the  state- 
prison  for  ten  years,  and  with  a  gang  of 
felons  was  taken  from  the  county  jail,  and 
transported  in  chains  to  his  solitary  cell. 
His  heart-broken  wife  returned  to  her  fa- 
ther's house  to  wear  out  her  worse-than- 
widowhood,  while  he  who  was  the  author 
of  her  misery  was  to  drag  out  his  years  of 
punishment  in  a  gloomy  prison.  He  never 
lifted  up  his  head  after  he  entered.  Now 
and  then  an  old  acquaintance  would  be  per- 
mitted to  look  upon  him,  as  he  plied  his 
needle,  working  at  a  trade,  but  he  gave  no 
sign  of  recognition.  The  iron  had  entered 
into  his  soul.  His  health  sunk  under  the 
load  of  ignominy  which  he  felt  upon  him ; 
and  after  five  or  six  years'  imprisonment  he 
died  a  convict  felon,  in  a  prison  hospital, 
far  from  that  young  wife  who  would  have 
died  for  him,  or  with  him.  Miserable  man  ! 
And  such  an  end  !     Yet  such  is  the  misery, 


178  THE    FORGER. 

the  interlinking  misery,  that  crime  must 
bring.  How  many  hearts  are  pierced  by 
that  one  sting !  How  many  tears,  bitter, 
burning  tears,  of  mingled  grief  and  shame 
did  that  one  wucked  deed  bring  from  eyes 
that  else  would  ever  have  been  lighted  with 
love  and  joy  !  It  is  always  thus  with  sin. 
It  has  misery  in  its  train.  It  makes  all  the 
misery  there  is  in  this  world  ;  crushes  all 
the  hearts,  blasts  all  the  hopes,  digs  all  the 
graves,  waters  them  with  tears  of  anguish, 
and  then  stretches  itself  into  the  dread  eter- 
nity, and  kindles  the  fires  that  feed  on  the 
soul  for  ever  and  ever.  Oh,  sin,  these  are 
thy  victories,  these  are  thy  stings! 

Why  do  we  seek  the  works  of  fiction  for 
stories  of  exciting  interest,  when  truth  so 
moves  the  heart? 

But  I  do  not  like  to  leave  my  reminis- 
cences at  this  melancholy  point.  There 
were  others  whom  I  knew  in  youth  whose 
history  would  be  read  with  more  pleasure 
than  the  sad  tale  just  finished.  Do  you 
recollect  Dick   Ro^^ers,   mentioned   in   the 


DICK   ROGERS.  179 

first  chapter  of  these  sketches?  I  mean 
the  roguish  son  of  the  minister,  whom 
his  father  took  into  the  pulpit  to  punish  him 
for  playing  in  meeting,  and  who  straddled 
the  pulpit  while  his  father  was  praying,  and 
drummed  with  his  heels  on  the  boards ! 
Yes,  you  recollect  Dick.  And  perhaps  you 
would  like  to  know  what  has  become  of 
that  same  boy.  I  saw  him  in  this  city  yes- 
terday, and  know  his  history  as  well  as  I 
know  my  own — in  fact,  we  have  never  been 
far  apart.  In  childhood  he  was  always  full 
of  fun  and  frolic,  and  as  ready  for  anything 
in  the  way  of  innocent  sport  as  any  boy  in 
the  parish.  At  school  he  sobered  down  a 
little,  and  was  wide  awake  at  study,  as  he 
was  at  play.  Ambitious  and  ardent,  he  was 
determined  to  be  "  up  head."  At  eight 
years  of  age  he  was  in  the  Latin  :  at  twelve 
he  was  fitted  for  college,  and  Mr.  Rogers 
ventured  upon  the  hazardous  experiment  of 
sending  him  there.  In  the  midst  of  the 
many  temptations  to  which  he  was  thus  sud- 
denly  and    early   exposed,   it  would   have 


180  DICK   ROGERS. 

been  nothing  strange  had  he  fallen  into  the 
snares  that  are  laid  for  the  unwary.  Such 
might  have  been  his  fate,  as  such  has  been 
the  fate  of  others,  had  not  the  grace  of  God 
interposed  and  renewed  his  youthful  heart. 
With  the  same  ardor  that  had  marked  his 
childhood,  he  now  desired  to  consecrate  his 
youth  and  manhood  to  the  service  of  his 
Savior.  He  studied  for  the  ministry  and 
became  a  preacher  of  the  gospel.  But  his 
health  early  failed,  and,  leaving  the  pulpit, 
he  sought  a  field  of  usefulness  in  the  scarce- 
ly less  useful  department  of  the  public  press. 
The  little  Dick  Rogers  whom  I  saw  on  his 
father's  pulpit  in  prayer-time,  less  than 
thirty  years  ago,  is  now  discoursing  weekly 
through  the  columns  of  one  of  the  most 
"  widely-circulated"  newspapers  in  this 
country,  to  his  hundred  thousand  readers. 
He  is  growing  prematurely  old  ;  his  brow 
is  wrinkled,  and  he  stoops  as  he  walks,  but 
he  laughs  just  as  he  did  when  we  were 
boys.  I  met  him  in  a  bookstore,  and  he 
spoke  with  all  the  glee  of  childhood  of  tliose 


REFLECTIONS.  181 

bright   sunny   days,  when  "  the  world  was 
all  before  us  where  to  choose." 

How  widely  varied  have  been  the  paths 
by  which  those  early  friends  of  mine  have 
wandered  thus  far  through  life  !  How  many 
of  those  paths  have  already  led  to  the  grave  ! 
How  few  to  glory !  There  was  one  fine 
boy  who  was  my  constant  playmate ;  gen- 
erous and  true,  we  loved  and  trusted  him  : 
he  was  the  first  one  from  whom  I  ever  re- 
ceived a  letter  :  that  was  when  we  were  yet 
boys,  and  he  was  removed  to  the  city  to  be 
a  clerk  in  a  store.  That  was  thought  to 
be  something  very  great ;  a  certain  passport 
to  independence.  He  wrote  to  me  a  few 
times  while  his  heart  yet  yearned  for  the 
green  hills  and  forests  of  the  country  ;  but 
he  found  new  friends  and  new  pleasures  in 
the  city  :  he  ceased  to  write  to  me,  and  I 
ceased  to  hear  of  him.  He  grew  to  the 
verge  of  manhood,  ran  a  brief  career  of 
folly  and  vice,  left  his  business  and  lost  his 
character,  and  died  as  a  fool  dieth.  This 
was  one ;  and  then  there  were  others  who 
16 


182  REFLECTIONS. 

have  left  the  old  town  to  be  leaders  in  the 
church  and  the  state  ;  and  many,  the  most 
of  those  who  were  my  companions  in  youth, 
are  sober,  substantial  citizens  and  farmers, 
tiUing  the  lands  their  fathers  tilled,  and  wor- 
shipping their  fathers'  God. 


MY   FIRST   GRIEF.  183 


CHAPTER  X. 

MY   FIRST   GRIEF — TAKING   IT   EASY. 

In  the  congregation  that  joined  upon 
ours,  but  at  the  distance  of  several  miles, 
lived. a  youth  whom  I  tenderly  loved.  I 
have  never  known  any  love  of  the  same 
sort  since  he  left  me.  We  were  boys  at 
school  together  when  we  first  became  ac- 
quainted, and  both  being  of  the  same  age, 
with  similar  tastes  and  pursuits,  it  was  not 
strange  that  we  should  bind  us  to  each  other 
with  an  absorbing  devotion,  such  as  is  not 
felt  when  the  coldness  and  cares  of  the 
world  steal  around  our  hearts.  George 
Williams  (I  write  his  own  name,  for  I  can 
not  bear  to  look  on  a  fictitious  name  in  the 
place  of  his),  was  a  manly  boy,  and  I  re- 
member well  that  he  was   always   known 


184  MY    FIRST    GKIEF. 

among  his  classmates  as  above  everything 
mean  or  low  ;  despising  such  things  for 
their  own  sake,  and  seeking  to  be  known 
and  loved  as  a  boy  of  honor.  We  studied 
many  of  our  lessons  together,  and  both 
being  fond  of  the  Latin  and  Greek,  we 
found  mutual,  and  often  intense  delight  in 
detecting  and  admiring  the  beauties  which 
these  classics  unfolded  to  our  young  eyes. 
But  this  was  not  the  true  secret  of  our  at- 
tachment. 

We  were  both  away  from  home,  at  col- 
lege, neither  of  us  yet  seventeen  years  old, 
when  we  were  simultaneously  awakened  to 
a  sense  of  our  sinfulness  in  the  sight  of  God, 
and  together  we  set  out  to  seek  the  Savior. 
Often  did  we  meet,  and  kneeling  down  by 
the  same  chair,  we  poured  out  our  hearts 
in  prayer  for  mercy,  and  many  were  the 
vows  we  made  together  that  if  God  should 
pardon  our  sins,  we  would  consecrate  our- 
selves for  ever  to  his  service,  and  live  to 
his  glory.  Those  hours  of  deep  distress, 
when  we  seemed  to  be  cast  off  of  God,  and 


MY   FIRST   GRIEF.  185 

we  had  not  our  parents  near  us  to  whom  we 
could  go  with  our  load  of  grief,  those  hours 
drew  us  closely  to  each  other's  hearts. 
There  we  could  unburthen  our  souls,  com- 
pare our  emotions,  pray  for  one  another, 
and  thus  gather  encouragement  to  persevere 
in  seeking  eternal  life  through  Christ.  We 
found  peace  very  nearly  at  the  same  time, 
and  in  all  the  ardor  of  new  love  we  devoted 
our  whole  souls  to  God.  It  seemed  as  if 
this  were  the  very  beginning  of  our  attach- 
ment, so  new,  so  deep,  so  joyous,  were  the 
emotions  that  swelled  our  hearts  when  we 
entered  the  way  to  heaven,  and  together 
sought  and  found  those  pleasures  which 
ripen  only  under  the  sunlight  of  the  di- 
vine eye. 

A  few  months  after  this,  and  while  we 
were  yet  in  the  ardor  of  new  converts'  love, 
we  returned  to  our  respective  homes  to 
spend  a  vacation  of  four  weeks.  One 
morning  I  was  walking  out  with  a  friend 
about  sunrise,  and  as  we  were  passing  along 
the  street  he  left  me  for  a  moment  to  speak 
16* 


186  MY   FIRST   GRIEF. 

to  a  gentleman  whom  he  recognised,  and 
who  was  travelling  by.  The  young  man 
returned  to  me,  and  we  resumed  our  walk. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  moments  he  observed 
casually,  that  the  gentleman  with  whom  he 
had  just  been  conversing,  mentioned  to  him 
a  very  sudden  death  in  the  neighboring 
town,  the  day  before.  He  said  that  a  young 
man  had  been  cut  down  after  a  few  hours' 
sickness.  I  asked  if  he  mentioned  his 
name.  "Yes,"  he  said,  ^^  his  name  was 
George  Williams."  Had  a  spear  pier- 
ced my  heart,  the  poignancy  of  the  pain  had 
scarcely  been  more  acute.  Rather,  had  a 
bolt  from  heaven  fallen  on  my  head,  I  could 
not  have  been  more  stupefied.  For  a  moment 
I  reeled,  like  a  drunken  man,  and  then 
partially  recovering  strength,  I  put  my  ear 
close  to  the  mouth  of  my  friend,  and  asked 
him  to  tell  me  what  he  had  said,  and  to 
speak  lo2idf  for  I  was  not  sure  that  I  had 
heard  him  aright.  He  begged  me  to  be 
calm,  and  refused  to  repeat  the  fact.  I  sat 
down  on  the  grass,  and  in  the  silence  of  a 


MT   FIRST   GRIEF.  187 

desolated  heart,   waited   for  the  storm  of 
passionate  grief  to  pass  by. 

Almost  twenty  years  have  crept  by  since 
that  morning,  and  yet  I  feel  this  moment 
something  of  the  smothering  sensations  of 
that  hour.  The  sun  was  just  climbing  in 
the  east ;  but  it  was  dark,  very  dark  ;  and 
the  whole  face  of  nature,  a  moment  before 
smiling  in  the  charm  of  a  summer  morning, 
was  hung  with  black.  I  went  home,  and 
rushed  to  my  parents'  chamber,  and  throw- 
ing myself  across  their  feet  as  they  lay  in 
bed,  I  sobbed  out  (tears  then  first  coming 
to  my  relief),  "  George  Williams  is  deadP'' 
In  an  instant  they  comprehended  the  power 
of  my  grief,  and,  rising  from  the  pillows, 
threw  their  arms  around  me.  and  we  all 
wept  together — T  for  my  Jonathan  whom  I 
had  lost,  and  they  in  sympathy  with  me  and 
the  parents  who  had  lost  theii'  boy.  In  the 
course  of  the  day  I  went  up  to  the  funeral, 
and  stood  petrified  with  sorrow  over  the 
remains  of  my  dearest  friend.  He  was 
buried.     Night  after  night  he  came  to  me 


188  MY    FIRST    GRIEF. 

in  my  dreams,  sometimes  as  in  the  days 
of  our  youthful  love,  and  there  was  nothing 
to  remind  me  that  he  was  not  as  in  days 
that  were  past ;  and  again  he  would  come 
to  me  all  clothed  in  white,  an  angel  from 
the  skies,  and  would  beckon  me  to  follow 
him ;  and  touching  the  strings  of  a  little 
harp  of  gold  that  he  held  in  his  hand,  as 
the  gentle  music  fell  like  the  light  of  heaven 
on  my  ravished  ear,  he  would  spread  his 
wings  and  vanish  into  thin  air.  Often  after 
such  meetings  and  partings  I  waked  and 
found  my  pillow  drenched  in  tears.  This 
was  my  first  grief.  It  is  easy  to  see  that 
my  mind  was  quite  unprepared  for  such  a 
blow,  and  that  the  loss  even  o(  such  a  friend 
now,  might  be  borne  with  more  composure. 
There  was  no  manliness  in  that  sorrow. 
But  it  was  good  for  me.  O  how  vain  the 
world  seemed  to  me  from  that  date  !  It 
was  an  epoch  in  my  life.  I  felt  that  every- 
thing my  heart  was  set  on  here  was  so  un- 
certain that  I  would  live  for  God  and 
heaven.     And  then,  in  my  folly,  I  thought 


TAKING   IT   EASY.  189 

I  would  never  love  anybody  again,  for  fear 
they  too  would  die.  How  soon  I  got  over 
that,  it  is  needless  to  write. 

This  is  a  tale  of  boyish  love  and  sorrow 
that  will  be  read  with  various  emotions  ac- 
cording to  the  taste  of  those  into  whose 
hands  it  falls.  There  are  some  who  will 
push  it  aside  as  soft  and  sentimental,  while 
a  few  will  believe  me,  when  I  say  that  it 
severed  the  cords  that  bound  me  to  earthly 
love,  and  led  me  to  consecrate  every  faculty 
to  the  Lord,  who  had  bought  me  with  his 
own  blood. 

Taking  it  easy. — In  almost  every 
country  town  in  which  T  ever  became  ac- 
quainted there  might  be  found  one  man  at 
least,  and  sometimes  several,  who  take  the 
world  so  easily  that  they  never  give  them- 
selves any  trouble  as  to  what  they  and  their 
family  shall  eat  or  drink  ;  and  this  indiffer- 
ence they  carry  to  such  an  extent  that  they 
use  no  means  to  provide  for  their  daily 
wants.  Now  where  a  simple-hearted  trust 
in  Providence  is  followed  up  by  diligent 


190  TAKING   IT   EAST. 

industry,  we  are  always  pleased  to  see  it ; 
but  in  the  case  of  Peter  Fish,  the  careless- 
ness about  this  world  did  not  appear  to  be 
so  much  the  result  of  trust  in  Providence 
as  of  constitutional  laziness,  and  such  a 
passion  {ovjishing^  that  for  the  sake  of  it  he 
neglected  everything  else,  and  lost  his  prop- 
erty while  he  caught  trout.  He  inherited 
a  handsome  farm  and  a  beautiful  house,  and 
around  him  bloomed  one  of  the  loveliest 
families  in  all  our  town.  His  wife  was  a 
sweet  woman,  his  daughters  were  very 
pretty,  and  he  had  a  fine  boy  of  my  own 
age  ;  and  with  such  a  family  one  would 
think  that  he  had  motive  enough  for  diligence 
in  business,  to  keep  them  in  respectable  cir- 
cumstances, if  he  had  no  desire  to  add  to 
his  possessions.  But  Peter  was  one  of 
those  good,  easy  souls,  who  think  that  every- 
thing will  take  care  of  itself,  and  there  is  no 
need  of  his  taking  trouble  about  it.  He 
took  to  fishing,  and  though  fond  of  the 
water  he  drank  but  little  of  it,  unless  it  was 
mixed  with  something  stronger.     Yet  he 


TAKING   IT   EASY.  191 

never  drank  to  excess,  according  to  the 
pattern  of  those  days.  He  was  a  sober 
man,  and  everybody  liked  him.  He  would 
go  far  and  stay  long,  to  do  any  one  a  good 
turn  ;  and  if  he  heard  of  any  one  being  sick 
to  whom  a  nice  trout  would  be  a  delicacy, 
Fishing  Peter,  as  Peter  Fish  was  universally 
called,  was  sure  to  hear  of  it  and  supply  the 
article,  with  such  readiness,  too,  that  it  was 
plain  he  found  more  pleasure  in  giving  than 
receiving.  I  can  see  him  now,  creeping 
stealthily  down  the  beautiful  brook  that 
meandered  through  the  meadows  near  my 
father's  house,  with  his  fish-basket  hanging 
at  his  back,  a  smashed  hat  on  his  head,  and 
a  trim  pole  in  his  hand  ;  pursuing  his  prey 
with  an  earnest  but  quiet  enthusiasm  that 
Izaak  Walton  never  attained,  and  with  a 
skill  in  the  use  of  theflij  that  the  old  master 
of  the  piscatory  art  would  have  envied  had 
he  followed  him,  as  I  have  many  a  live- 
long day,  to  see  the  speckled,  beautiful  trout 
leap  from  the  swift  stream  anfl  catch  its 
barbed  hook  as  if  they  were  glad  to  fall  into 


192  TAKING    IT    EAST. 

the  hands  of  Fishing  Peter.  He  took  to 
me,  and  I  took  to  him,  and  we  both  took 
to  fishing  ;  and  if  I  could  have  had  my  own 
way  about  it,  I  should,  in  all  probability, 
have  given  up  my  time  to  it,  and  been   a 

fisherman  instead  of  a ,  but  my  good 

parents  had  sense  enough  to  order  other- 
wise, and  I  was  saved  from  floating  down 
stream  with  my  lazy  friend.  Peter  Fish,  I 
said,  was  a  man  of  property,  and  in  his  way 
very  religious  :  when  he  came  into  posses- 
sion of  a  handsome  house  and  farm  of  his 
own,  he  said  he  thanked  God  for  it ;  and 
when  he  let  his  fields  lie  untilled,  or  his 
crops  waste  for  want  of  attention,  and  one 
year  after  another  his  possessions  slipped 
away  from  him  by  his  inattention,  and  he 
was  at  last  compelled  to  see  his  fair  acres 
passing  out  of  his  hands,  while  he  sought  a 
home  for  his  family  in  a  little  dwelling  that 
a  few  years  before  they  would  never  have 
dreamed  of  occupying,  even  then  did  this 
easy  soul  lift  up  his  eyes  to  heaven  and  say, 
"  Blessed  be  nothing."     And,  verily,  that 


TAKING    IT   EAST.  193 

was  about  all  he  had.  He  finally  tried  to 
turn  his  fishing  to  some  account  in  the  way 
of  supporting  his  family,  and  by  driving  a 
little  business  in  the  line  of  fishing  tackle, 
he  did  contrive  to  earn  a  trifle.  But  that 
was  all ;  he  would  often  go  off  for  weeks 
together  on  fishing  excursions,  managing 
perhaps  to  support  himself  while  he  was 
gone,  by  his  favorite  pursuit,  but  leaving  his 
family  to  look  out  for  themselves.  So  he 
lived,  and  so  he  died.  I  have  told  his  story 
as  a  sample  of  a  class  of  men  often  met  with 
in  the  country,  who  would  rather  at  any  time 
serve  their  neighbors  than  help  themselves; 
averse  to  labor,  but  fond  of  doing  chores^  and 
apparently  happy  and  contented,  while  their 
affairs  are  going  to  ruin  rapidly  and  surely. 
Industry  in  the  country  is  the  only  road  to 
prosperity.  A  man  must  rise  early  and  work 
hard  who  would  make  money  by  the  sweat 
of  his  brow.  I  find  it  hard  at  that  here  in 
the  city,  where  I  have  more  hrow-'Siwe^l  than 
I  ever  had  in  the  country. 
17 


'e 


194  RICHARD   KOGERS'S  FIRST   SERMON. 


CHAPTER    XL 

RICHARD   ROGERS's    FIRST    SERMON. 

I  MET  with  Richard  Rogers  here  in  the 
city  the  other  day,  and  strolHng  down  one 
street  and  up  another  we  found  ourselves 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  South  ferry, 
and,  tempted  by  the  cool  breezes  that  fanned 
the  bay,  we  struck  across,  and  were  soon 
wandering  toward  the  Greenwood  cemetery. 
On  the  way  he  told  me  of  his  first  sermon 
to  the  old  congregation,  and  I  begged  him 
to  give  me  a  sketch  of  his  visit,  and  the 
heads  of  his  discourse,  that  I  might  work 
them  up  in  the  series  of  "Reminiscences" 
which  I  am  just  drawing  to  a  close.  That 
very  night  he  complied  with  my  request, 
and  from  the  materials  which  he  placed  in 
my  hands,  I  make  the  rest  of  this  article. 


EICHARD    ROGERS's  FIRST    SERMON.  195 

I  have  said  that  Richard  was  the  minister's 
son,  and  in  the  next  chapter  I  shall  go  into 
the  history  of  his  father's  separation  from 
that  people ;  but,  in  the  meantime,  that 
must  be  passed  over,  while  we  come  to  a 
period  some  years  later,  when  great  changes 
have  passed  upon  the  face  of  things — old 
people  have  grown  older  or  passed  away, 
and  children  are  in  the  places  of  their 
fathers. 

After  Mr.  Rogers's  removal  from  the  place, 
the  people  called  one  and  another  minister, 
and  the  various  distractions  that  followed 
would  furnish  themes  for  a  volume  of  histor- 
ical recollections.  At  length  they  settled 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Luce,  a  man  of  singular  pow- 
ers of  mind,  great  pulpit  abilities,  and  so 
strikingly  eccentric  in  manner  and  matter 
as  to  render  him  the  "  observed  of  all  ob- 
servers" wherever  he  raised  his  voice.  Sel- 
dom have  I  heard  a  man  of  more  brilliant 
powers  of  fancy,  united  with  the  severe 
logic  of  a  philosopher.  His  sermons  were 
written  with  beauty,  and  delivered  with  an 


196  RICHARD    ROGERS's  FIRST    SERMON. 

energy  and  naturahiess  that  delighted  tlie 
ear,  and  seemed  to  carry  the  truth  directly 
to  the  heart.  The  congregation  were  de- 
lighted with  him,  and  he  was  rapidly  gaining 
a  hold  upon  their  affections  that  promised 
to  be  more  strong  than  any  pastor  they  had 
had  since  the  days  of  Mr.  Rogers.  One 
sabbath,  at  the  close  of  sermon,  it  was  a 
bitter  cold  day  in  the  dead  of  winter,  and 
the  fire  in  the  old  meetinghouse  served  only 
to  rarefy  the  air  within  a  little,  so  that  through 
the  crevices  and  windows  it  rushed  in  with 
greater  violence  from  without ;  it  was  just 
the  day  for  the  purpose  which  Mr.  Luce 
had  in  his  heart,  which  was  nothing  less 
than  the  destruction  of  the  old  house,  and 
the  erection  of  a  new  one  on  its  ruins  ;  I 
say,  at  the  close  of  sermon,  Mr.  Luce 
closed  the  Bible,  and  surveying  the  temple 
as  if  he  had  never  seen  the  building  before, 
his  brow  contracting  as  if  he  were  growing 
indignant  at  some  remarkable  discovery  just 
made,  he  broke  out  in  the  following  novel 
strain  of  pulpit  eloquence  : — 


RICHARD  Rogers's  first  sermon.        197 

ti  My  grandfather  has  a  barn — "  the  con- 
gregation started  in  their  seats  at  the  com- 
munication of  a  fact  so  very  probable,  but 
so  very  strangely  out  of  place  ;  Mr.  Luce 
began  again — *'  My  grandfather  has  a  barn 
that  is  altogether  better  for  a  place  to  wor- 
ship God  in  than  this  house."  Amazement 
sat  on  the  faces  of  the  people.  For  half  a 
century  many  of  them  had  worshipped  the 
God  of  their  fathers  in  that  venerable  house ; 
there  they  had  consecrated  their  children  to 
his  service ;  there  they  had  heard  the  words 
of  eternal  truth,  and  learned  the  way  to 
heaven,  and  to  be  told  that  any  man  had  a 
barn  better  than  that  church,  was  nearly 
enough  to  drive  them  mad.  Mr.  Luce 
paused  a  moment  to  see  how  the  first  blow 
would  be  received,  and  then  proceeded 
with  more  calmness  to  point  out  the  obvious 
reasons  why  the  congregation  should  set 
about  building  a  new  church,  and  that,  too, 
without  any  unnecessary  delay.  He  was 
able  to  make  a  strong  case,  and  his  argu- 
ments fell  like  hailstones  on  the  hearts  of 
17* 


198        RICHARD  Rogers's  first  sermon. 

the  people.  They  could  not  resist  them, 
though  they  would  gladly  have  escaped 
them.  It  was  plain  that  the  knell  of  the 
old  church  was  tolling.  After  the  meeting 
was  out,  the  farmers  put  their  heads  to- 
gether in  little  groups  as  they  went  for  their 
teams,  and  discussed  the  great  subject  which 
had  so  suddenly  burst  upon  their  attention. 
Before  they  started  for  their  homes  it  was 
generally  admitted  that  the  thing  must  he 
thought  of,  if  nothing  more. 

Mr.  Luce  followed  up  the  success  of  the 
first  blow,  and  the  next  sabbath  he  went 
more  fully  into  the  matter,  preaching  on 
the  subject,  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  preach- 
ing all  day  on  it,  that  the  duty  and  expe- 
diency of  the  project  might  be  brought  to 
bear  on  the  mind  with  all  the  power  of 
regular  pulpit  instruction.  In  the  course 
of  a  few  weeks  the  congregation  were  wide 
awake,  some  for,  and  some,  of  course, 
against  the  enterprise  ;  and  then  came  the 
tug  of  war.  There  was  a  little  knot  of 
men  who  always  wanted  to  have  their  own 


RICHARD  Rogers's  first  sermon.        199 

way  about  the  doing  and  the  mode  of  doing 
everything,  and  their  dignity  was  hurt  be- 
cause they  had  not  been  consulted  before 
the  minister  made  the  first  movement ;  and 
a  new  set  of  men,  who  had  not  been  used 
to  taking  the  lead,  espousing  the  project 
with  great  warmth,  two  parties  were  very 
soon  formed.  The  anti-building  party 
threw  every  obstruction  in  the  way,  and 
this  but  inflamed  the  zeal  of  the  other,  who 
pushed  on  the  work,  the  minister  leading 
the  way,  and  almost  every  Sunday  making 
a  distinct  allusion  to  a  barn  which  was  built 
by  an  ancestor  of  his,  and  which,  in  his 
humble  opinion,  was  a  better  building  for  a 
church  than  that  old  meetinghouse. 

The  old  house  was  torn  down,  and  after 
a  desperate  struggle  about  the  site  of  the 
new  one,  some  contending  for  another  loca- 
tion, and  some  going  for  two  houses  in  dif- 
ferent sections  of  the  congregation,  the  ma- 
jority detiided  to  build  on  the  spot  where 
the  other  had  stood,  and  accordingly  it  was 
done.     The  money  was  raised,  and  large 


200       RICHARD  Rogers's  first  sermon. 

donations  were  made  of  materials,  and  much 
of  the  work  was  done  by  bees  of  the  people, 
and  so  it  came  to  pass,  by  one  means  and 
another,  that  the  new  house,  a  very  neat, 
spacious,  and  comfortable  edifice,  was  erect- 
ed ;  and  it  now  stands  there  to  the  praise 
and  glory  of  God. 

I  was  going  to  speak  of  Richard  Rogers's 
first  appearance  here,  when  I  was  led  into 
this  digression  ;  but  it  was  necessary.  He 
told  me  that  it  had  been  a  favorite  desire  of 
his  heart,  after  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
ministry,  to  go  back  to  the  old  place,  to 
stand  in  the  old  pulpit  where  his  father  had 
carried  him  when  a  boy,  to  keep  him  quiet 
in  church,  and  there  to  speak  of  Christ 
Jesus  to  the  people  whom  he  had  grown 
up  with,  and  toward  whom  his  spirit  turned 
as  the  needle  to  die  pole.  He  was  disap- 
pointed in  this,  for  when  he  arrived  in  the 
place,  he  found  that  a  wonderful  change  had 
passed  over  the  people  and  the  whole  face 
of  society.  The  hills  were  there,  and  the 
fields  were  there ;  but  many  of  the  people 


EICHARD    ROGERS's    FIRST   SERMON.  201 

were  not  there,  and  what  was  more  than  all 
to  him,  the  old  meetinghouse  was  not  there. 
He  did  not  know  how  much  he  loved  it 
till  it  was  gone.  A  goodlier  structure  stood 
in  its  place,  but  it  was  not  the  church  about 
which  he  had  run  a  thousand  times  in  the 
sports  of  childhood,  and  in  which  he  had 
received  the  first  impressions  of  the  value 
of  eternal  things.  He  said  that  he  felt  hot 
tears  falling  on  his  cheeks  as  he  walked 
over  the  green,  and  tried  to  recall  the  tall 
spire  and  the  wheeling  weathercock  that 
had  been  his  admiration  in  days  long 
gone  by.  He  found  friends  there,  and  the 
minister  of  the  place  hearing  of  his  arrival, 
called  on  him,  and  invited  him  to  preach 
the  next  day,  which  would  be  the  sabbath. 
Richard  was  glad  of  the  opportunity,  and 
had  indeed  come  prepared  for  the  very  oc- 
casion that,  had  now  occurred. 

He  went  to  the  house  of  God  at  the  ap- 
pointed hour,  and  it  was  evident  from  the 
appearance  of  the  people  that  iew  of  them 
Tcnew  the  young  stranger  who  ascended  the 


202  RICHARD    ROGERs's    FIRST    SERMON. 

pulpit-Stairs.  He  cast  his  eye  over  the 
congregation,  and  the  sight  of  his  eye  af- 
fected his  heart.  What  a  revolution  a  few 
years  had  wrought !  In  one  respect  the 
change  was  total :  the  pulpit  was  in  front 
instead  of  the  rear  of  the  church,  and  not  a 
family  sat  in  the  same  relative  position  as 
in  years  past.  He  looked  from  one  seat  to 
another,  detecting  here  and  there  features 
with  which  he  had  once  been  familiar,  and 
which  would  generally  suggest  the  name  to 
which  they  belonged.  But  there  were  many 
missino-.  There  was  the  familv  of  this  and 
that  man,  but  the  head  was  not  there  ;  and 
there  was  a  pew  filled  with  people  whom  he 
had  never  seen  before  ;  and  where  could  be 
the  family  of  his  old  neighbor — he  looked 
over  and  over  the  congregation,  but  found 
them  not ;  they  had  removed,  probably  to 
the  great  west,  and  their  places  there  would 
know  them  no  more.  Rogers  gave  me  a 
sketch  of  his  sermon,  but  I  have  room  only 
for  an  oudine  of  it.     His  text  was  in   the 


RICHARD   ROGERS's    FIRST   SERMON.  203 

book  of  Zechariah,  first  chapter  and  fifth 

verse : — 

"Your  fathers,  where  are  they?" 

Everything  around  us  is  tending  to  de- 
cay. The  grass  withereth  and  the  flower 
thereof  fadeth.  The  migiitiest  monuments 
of  human  power  are  not  proof  against  the 
silent  touch  of  time.  The  fashion  of  this 
world  passeth  away. 

As  with  the  works  of  men,  so  with  man 
himself.  Everything  within  him  as  well  as 
around  him,  reminds  him  that  he  must  die. 
He  comes  into  the  world,  and  spends  his 
appointed  time,  eats,  drinks,  and  rejoices 
in  the  blessings  that  drop  on  his  path,  or 
mourns  among  the  griefs  that  are  strewn  in 
his  way  ;  and  then  passes  off  into  another 
world.  His  frail  body  becomes  the  tenant 
of  a  tomb,  the  food  of  worms,  and  his  spirit 
returns  to  God  who  gave  it.  So  it  has  been, 
and  is,  with  the  race  of  man.  Where  now 
are  the  millions  innumerable  whose  feet 
once  trod  the  earth  ?  The  nations  beyond 
the  flood  ?     The  generations  since  ?  Where 


204  RICHARD    ROGERs's    FIRST    SERMON. 

the  tribes  that  once  roamed  over  these  hills  ? 
Where  the  men  that  first  tilled  these  fields? 
Your  fathers,  where  are  they  ? 

You  do  not  feel  the  power  of  this  inquiry 
as  I  do,  who  for  the  first  time  stand  in  this 
pulpit  and  look  around  me  among  a  people 
with  whom  I  have  lived ;  and  as  my  eye 
searches  in  vain  for  many  whom  I  revered 
and  loved,  I  may  ask  with  the  deepest 
emotion,  "  Your  fathers,  where  are  they  V 
[The  good  people  now  saw  plainly  enough 
that  it  was  the  son  of  their  old  minister, 
and  listened  accordingly.] 

How  painful  the  ravages  of  time  !  So 
noiseless  is  his  step  that  we  hear  him  not 
as  he  moves  among  us  :  nor  when  on  his 
swift  wing  he  bears  us  onward  toward  the 
other  world,  do  we  heed  his  flight.  But 
we  look  around  us,  and  the  signs  of  his 
power  and  progress  are  many  and  fearful. 
You  must  revisit  the  scenes  of  your  child- 
hood and  youth,  after  an  absence  of  years, 
if  you  would/ce/  the  fact  that  time  is  on  the 
wing ;  you  must  look  among  the  living  for 


EiCHARD  Rogers's  first  sermon.        205 

those  you  knew,  and  find  them  not ;  you 
must  walk  among  the  tombs  and  find  old 
familiar  names  on  the  head-stones,  and  start 
at  the  thought  that  their  epitaphs  are  graved 
before  you  have  heard  of  their  decease,  and 
with  such  an  experience  you  will  sympa- 
thize with  me,  coming  among  you  as  a 
stranger,  and  asking,  "  Where  are  your 
fathers'/" 

They  are  in  their  graves.  The  hoary 
heads  that  were  an  ornament  to  this  con- 
gregation, whose  wisdom  was  valued,  whose 
precepts  were  revered,  are  laid  low.  The 
places  that  knew  them  once  shall  know 
them  no  more  for  ever.  Their  children  are 
now  in  their  seats,  w^hile  the  grass  grows 
on  the  graves  where  their  dust  mingles  with 
its  mother  earth. 

They  are  in  eternity.  Long  as  the  lives 
of  many  of  them  seemed  while  they  were 
here,  they  have  but  just  begun  to  live.  It 
is  the  mortal  only  that  has  been  laid  in  the 
tomb,  and  even  that  mortal  shall  burst  its 
prison  and  rise  to  immortality.  Already 
18 


206  RICHARD    ROGERS's   FIRST    SERMON. 

their  spirits  have  begun  their  flight  through 
infinity,  but  never,  never  v^^ill  they  be  nearer 
the  end  than  now. 

Tliey  are  in  heaven.  We  thank  God 
that  so  many  of  those  who  have  been  called 
from  this  world,  have  left  behind  them  this 
blessed  assurance  that  the  world's  loss  is 
their  unspeakable  gain.  The  elders  have 
joined  the  elders  round  the  throne.  With 
Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  they  walk, 
and  speak,  and  praise.  They  are  at  home 
with  God.  The  earthly  temple  of  the  Lord 
they  loved — here  their  voices  mingled  in 
the  worship  of  the  Most  High ;  now  they 
kneel  in  the  unveiled  presence  of  the  Holy, 
and  offer  incense  on  the  altar  of  eternal 
love.  Blessed  spirits !  Sainted  spirits ! 
O  that  your  mantles  might  fall  on  those  that 
bear  your  names ! 

And  this  is  a  fitting  time  to  speak  of  the 
virtues  of  the  men  who  have  gone  before 
us ;  their  integrity,  piety,  industry,  pru- 
dence, zeal !  They  were  men  of  faith  and 
prayer ;  there  were  giants  in  former  times 


RICHARD   ROGERS's    FIRST    SERMON.  207 

here ;  mighty,  through  God,  to  resist  the 
floods  of  sin ;  mighty  to  build  up  the  church 
of  Christ;  and  the  strength  of  their  virtues 
will  be  felt  in  generations  yet  to  come. 

[Here  follows  a  glowing  eulogy  upon  the 
men  who  were  at  the  head  of  affairs  when 
the  speaker  was  a  boy,  and  a  warm  appeal 
to  those  who  were  coming  on  the  stage,  to 
emulate  their  example.] 

Where  our  fathers  are  we  soon  shall 
be.  Many  of  us  will  fall  long  before  we 
reach  the  age  of  many  of  them.  Our  friends 
will  mourn  over  our  early  graves,  and  others 
may  struggle  on  until  the  half-way  house  is 
reached,  and  die  there,  and  a  few  may  live 
to  have  almond-blossoms,  the  flowers  of  the 
tomb,  scattered  on  their  heads.  But  the 
most  of  us  will  die  before  that  time  arrives. 
Let  us  then  be  wise  to-day ;  and  while  the 
pulse  of  life  is  full  of  health,  let  us  make 
ready  for  the  hour  when  the  sudden  sum- 
mons of  the  Son  of  man  shall  come. 

The  rest  of  the  sermon  is  an  application 
of  the  solemn  lesson  which  the   occasion 


208  RICHARD   ROGERS'S   FIRST   SERMON. 

could  not  fail  to  suggest ;  and  the  young 
people,  the  most  of  whom  had  been  the 
playmates  and  friends  of  the  youthful 
preacher,  gave  fixed  attention  as  he  exhort- 
ed them  to  make  sure  work  for  eternity. 

But  there  was  something  strange  in  it — 
it  did  not  seem  to  be  a  reality,  that  one 
whom  they  had  but  a  few  years  before 
known  as  a  roguish  boy,  should  be  so  soon 
transformed  into  a  preacher,  and  be  in  their 
pulpit.  One  of  the  elders  expressed  the 
general  feeling  of  the  people  when  he  ob- 
served, at  the  intermission:  "  Well,  I  don't 
know  anything  he  has  been  talking  about : 
all  I  know  is,  that  DicJc  Rogers  has  been 
preaching  !^^ 

And  he  has  preached  a  great  many  times 
since ;  but  I  have  no  thought  of  inflicting 
any  more  of  his  sermons,  and  only  one  more 
of  these  sketches,  upon  tlie  reader. 


THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS.  209 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS. 

"  Our  minister  must  be  dismissed,"  has 
been  said  by  many  a  parish,  when,  for  the 
life  of  them,  not  one  of  the  people  could 
tell  why.  The  words  of  heavenly  grace 
have  fallen  with  continued  power  from  his 
pure  and  holy  hps ;  his  blameless  Hfe  and 
godly  conversation  have  been  an  ensample 
to  the  flock,  and  the  very  atmosphere  has 
been  fragrant  with  his  piety  and  his  deeds 
of  love;  but  the  feeling  has  become  general 
that  he  must  be  dismissed.  This  was  not 
the  feeling  of  the  people  toward  Mr.  Ro- 
gers ;  but  I  speak  of  it  as  no  strange  thing 
among  country  or  city  congregations,  and 
there  was  just  enough  of  this  feeling  with  a 
few  of  Mr.  Rogers's  people  to  make  it  ne- 
cessary for  me,  as  a  faithful  historian,  to 
18* 


210  THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS. 

record  the  facts.  Mr.  Rogers  might  have 
stayed  with  that  people  to  this  day,  had  not 
the  stern  voice  of  duty  called  him  to  another 
sphere  of  usefulness  ;  yet  this  call  came  at 
a  moment  when  the  unhallowed  opposition 
of  the  few,  by  underground  machination, 
had  brought  matters  to  such  a  pass  that  it 
was  far  more  comfortable  for  him  to  be  in 
a  better  place,  than  to  be  resisting  the  at- 
tacks, and  watching  the  wiles  of  those  who 
wanted  to  get  him  out  of  their  w^ay.  It  is 
curious  to  see  how  this  disposition  to  drive 
away  a  pastor  begins  and  grows.  iVs  it 
happened  in  our  old  congregation,  so  it  hap- 
pens often  in  others. 

One  day  Mr.  Rogers  was  sitting  in  his 
study,  very  busily  engaged  in  preparing  for 
the  approaching  sabbath,  when  one  of  the 
most  active  members  of  the  church  called  to 
see  him.  Mr.  Gridley  was  very  kindly  re- 
ceived, and,  notwithstanding  the  good  pastor 
would  have  preferred  to  be  uninterrupted, 
he  urged  his  parishioner  to  take  a  seat,  and 
very  kindly  asked  after  his  own  health  and 


THE  DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS.  211 

that  of  his  family.  Mr.  G.  sat  down,  but 
seemed  to  be  uneasy  ;  evidently  something 
was  on  his  mind,  and  he  did  not  know  how 
to  get  at  it.  The  pastor  again  asked  him 
if  he  was  well,  and  this  assured  the  parish- 
ioner that  his  disquietude  was  apparent,  and 
he  might  as  well  be  out  with  the  cause. 
Twirling  his  hat  between  his  knees  and 
looking  down  on  the  floor,  he  at  length 
mustered  courage  to  begin,  and  once  under 
way,  he  was  compelled  to  proceed  till  he 
had  made  out  a  case.  His  communication 
was  something  after  this  sort : — 

"  I  never  like  to  have  anything  on  my 
mind  against  a  man,  without  going  to  him 
and  telling  him  of  it." 

"  That  is  right,"  said  Mr.  Rogers  ;  "  the 
gospel  requires  you  to  go  to  one  who  has 
offended  you,  and  make  known  your  feel- 
ings.    What  is  the  matter  now?" 

*'  Well,"  said  Mr.  Gridley,  "  I  do  not 
think  it  was  right  for  you  to  preach  about 
me  as  you  did  last  Sunday,  and  it  hurt  my 
feelings  very  much.     I  have  been  distressed 


212  THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS. 

all  the  week,  and  I  thought  it  was  my  duty 
to  call  and  talk  with  you  about  it.  I  sup- 
pose you  know  well  enough  what  I  mean, 
and  I  need  not  be  any  more  particular." 

"  Which  sermon  do  you  mean,  Mr. 
Gridley,  which  you  supposed  had  a  special 
reference  to  yourself?" 

"  Why,  the  afternoon  sermon,  of  course. 
It  can  hardly  be  that  Mr.  Rogers  has  for- 
gotten it  so  soon.  Everybody  noticed  it 
at  the  time,  as  I  knew  by  their  looks,  and 
several  have  spoken  to  me  about  it  since. 
You  spoke  of  people  who  go  around  stirring 
up  strife,  and  trying  to  injure  others,  w^hom 
they  have  not  the  manliness  to  rebuke  in 
public ;  and  although  it  was  generally  un- 
derstood that  you  meant  me,  I  wanted  to 
call  and  just  say  that  your  suspicions  are 
altogether  unfounded,  and  that  I  have  never 
done  anything  of  the  kind.  It  was  very 
hard  for  me  to  be  thus  pointed  out  before 
the  whole  congregation,  and  I  am  sure  if 
you  had  known  me  better  you  would  not 
have  done  it." 


THE   DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS.  213 

Mr.  Rogers  listened  kindly  to  these  obser- 
vations, which  were  evidently  made  in  very 
bad  temper;  and  when  Farmer  Gridley  had 
made  a  full  end  of  his  complaints,  the  pastor 
deliberately  remarked — 

"  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  be  able  to  say 
to  you,  Mr.  Gridley,  for  your  relief  in  this 
matter,  that  in  writing  the  sermon  to  which 
you  refer,  and  in  preaching  it,  1  never  once, 
to  my  present  recollection,  thought  of  you. 
The  instruction  was  general,  but  was  de- 
signed to  be  applicable  to  all  those  whom 
the  coat  would  fit ;  and  you  must  allow  me 
to  say  that  1  do  not  see  how  you  could  take 
it  to  yourself,  and  suppose  that  others  ap- 
plied it  to  you,  unless  there  was  some  pecu- 
liar fitness  in  the  truth  for  your  case.  Per- 
haps you  can  explain  it." 

No,  he  could  not.  He  tried  very  hard, 
but  he  was  fairly  caught,  and  the  most 
mortifying  part  of  it  was  that  he  had  been  the 
means  of  revealing  to  Mr.  Rogers  the  very 
thing  he  wished  to  deny,  and  he  felt  he 
must  now  be  known,  as  having  been  secretly 


214  THE   DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS. 

at  work  to  undermine  the  influence  of  his 
pastor,  while  he  was  mean  enough  to  deny 
it  when  his  conduct  was  providentially 
brought  to  light.  Now  he  could  never 
forgive  himself  for  the  blunder  he  had  made 
in  going  to  Mr.  Rogers ;  and,  as  men  never 
forgive  one  whom  they  have  injured^  Mr. 
Gridley  was  his  minister's  enemy  from  that 
hour. 

The  mortified  farmer,  mad  at  himself, 
and  more  mad  at  his  unoffending  minister, 
went  away  with  a  fell  and  full  purpose  to 
do  what  he  had  long  desired — to  drive  away 
Mr.  Ro2:ers.  Thinkino;  over  the  names  of 
the  people,  to  find  those  most  likely  to  join 
him  in  this  work  of  vengeance,  he  saw  Mr. 
Vinton  coming  toward  him,  and  it  struck 
him  in  an  instant  that  there  was  the  very  man 
for  his  purpose.  Mr.  V.  was  one  of  the  oldest 
and  most  influential  men  in  the  conc-reo-a- 
iion.  He  was  more  than  sixty  years  of 
age,  and  for  nearly  forty  years  had  been  the 
heading  man  in  all  matters  of  business. 
Previous  to  the  settlement  of  Mr.  Rogers, 


THE   DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS.  215 

he  had  ruled  the  people  ;  his  opinion  had 
been  law,  and  his  counsel  was  looked  upon 
as  commands,  to  be  followed  as  a  matter 
of  course.  The  good,  easy  ministers  who 
had  preceded  Mr.  Rogers,  meekly  acquies- 
ced in  Mr.  Vinton's  measures,  and  thinking 
it  less  troublesome  to  let  him  have  his  own 
way  than  to  attempt  to  oppose  him  or  to 
make  him  keep  his  place,  they  had  just  let 
him  go  on  according  to  his  own  notion ; 
and  as  he  was  in  the  main  judicious  in  his 
measures,  no  great  harm  was  the  conse- 
quence of  his  officiousness.  But  a  new 
order  of  things  came  in,  when  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Rogers  was  set  over  that  flock.  He  had  a 
mind,  and  will,  and  way  of  his  own  ;  and 
while  he  rejoiced  in  the  counsel  and  co- 
operation of  all  the  good  and  the  wise  of 
his  people,  he  did  not,  and  would  not,  suf- 
fer any  one  else  to  take  the  reins  out  of  his 
hand  or  assume  to  be  the  leader.  So  Mr. 
Vinton  had  to  see  his  influence  gradually 
waning.  For  some  years  it  went  on  well 
enough,  for  he  liked  Mr.  Roo-ers  as  well  as 


216  THE    DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS. 

the  rest,  and  not  until  they  differed  in  judg- 
ment, and  Mr.  V.  found  that  the  people 
would  listen  to  the  pastor's  advice,  and 
adopt  the  pastor's  plans,  and  would  not 
follow  his  own,  did  he  begin  to  think  that 
his  day  was  over.  In  the  great  Bridge,  or 
singing-school  war,  Mr.  V.  had  taken  hold 
with  the  minister,  and  their  united  influence 
had  borne  down  all  opposing  forces.  Had 
it  been  otherwise,  the  consequences  of  that 
struggle  might  have  been  more  permanently 
disastrous.  But  in  many  minor  matters 
Mr.  Vinton  had  been  compelled  to  see  and 
to  feel  that  the  ]}ower  was  no  longer  his  ; 
and  envy^  one  of  the  most  hateful  passions 
of  the  human  soul,  took  possession  of  his 
heart.  He  actually  regarded  his  pastor  as 
in  his  way.  In  meetings  of  the  congrega- 
tion for  the  transaction  of  secular  business, 
he  saw  that  if  Mr.  Rogers's  opinions  and 
wishes  were  known,  they  decided  the  ques- 
tion, whatever  views  he  might  entertain, 
and  the  fact  was  a  source  to  him  of  inces- 
sant vexation  and  anxiety.     He  wanted  to 


THE    DISMISSAL    OF   MR.    ROGERS.  217 

have  it  otherwise,  but  the  fact  that  it  was  so, 
was  the  very  obstacle  in  the  way  of  remedy. 
He  hated  Mr.  Rogers  because  the  people 
reverenced  and  loved  him,  and  because 
they  were  thus  attached,  it  seemed  absurd 
to  think  of  making  matters  better  for  his 
purposes.  But  Mr.  Vinton  knew  some- 
thing of  Farmer  Gridley's  feelings,  and,  as 
he  saw  him  driving  up  in  his  two-horse 
wagon,  he  resolved  at  once  to  stop  and 
have  a  talk.  Mr.  V.  had  a  very  pleasant 
way  of  speaking  to  people  whom  he  wished 
to  conciliate,  and  slacking  his  lines  as  he 
drew  up  to  the  farmer,  he  gave  him  the 
usual  salutation  with  great  cordiality,  and 
they  were  soon  leaning  over  the  sides  of 
their  wagons  in  close  conversation  in  the 
middle  of  the  road.  Mr.  Gridley  let  out 
the  result  of  his  interview  with  the  minister, 
giving  as  unfavorable  a  coloring  as  the 
thing  would  admit  of,  in  respect  to  Mr. 
Rogers,  and  hinting  that  he  was  far  from 
being  satisfied  with  the  explanation  he  had 
19 


218  THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.    ROGERS. 

receiv^ed.  Here  Mr.  Vinton  suggested  that 
Mr.  Rogers  was  generally  understood  in 
his  allusions  on  the  last  Sunday,  and  it  was 
not  honest  in  him  now  to  deny  it,  when  a 
parishioner  went  to  him  in  all  frankness  on 
the  subject.  The  mortified  farmer  now 
began  to  take  comfort.  He  had  not  thought 
that  Mr.  Rogers  might  have  deceived  him, 
but  here  was  a  hint  that  let  him  into  the 
secret  of  the  whole  matter.  Mr.  Vinton 
followed  up  the  impression  that  he  had 
made,  by  suggesting  that  he  thought  the 
minister  was  altogether  too  overbearing  and 
dictatorial — he  would  have  everything  his 
way  or  not  at  all — he  would  not  seek  ad- 
vice, and  when  it  was  offered  him,  he  would 
receive  it  in  silence,  and  do  as  he  pleased 
about  it  afterward. 

*'  For  my  part,"  said  he,  "  though  I 
have  not  mentioned  the  thing  out  of  my 
own  doors,  I  have  pretty  much  made  up 
my  mind  that  it  is  nearly  time  for  Mr. 
Rogers  to  look  out  for  some  other  place. 
I  don't  like  him  as  well  as  I  used  to,  and 


THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.    ROGEES.  219 

I  guess  there's  a  good  many  who  feel  the 
same  way." 

"  I  do,  for  one,"  said  the  farmer,  "  and 
I  have  been  sounding  around  a  little  to  see 
how  the  land  lies.  Some  of  the  folks  think 
Mr.  Rogers  is  just  the  best  man  that  ever 
lived,  and  they  would  rather  go  with  him 
than  stay  without  him.  The  fact  is,  the 
more  I  talk  about  it,  the  more  discouraged 
I  get;  and  I  never  dared  to  say  anything  to 
you  about  it,  for  fear  1  should  find  you  the 
strongest  on  Mr.  Rogers's  side." 

"  So  you  would,  if  you  had  talked  to  me 
some  time  ago,  but  lately  my  mind  has 
been  a  good  deal  worried  about  it,  and  I 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  will 
be  more  useful  somewhere  else.  He  is  a 
man  of  talents,  there's  no  denying  that,  and 
if  he  should  go  where  the  people  are  all 
united  in  him,  he  might  do  a  great  deal 
more  good  than  he  can  do  here.  Let's 
talk  the  matter  over  among  the  people,  and 
see  whether  it  is  best  to  do  anything  about 
it.     By  the  way,  my  wife  was  saying  yester- 


220  THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.    ROGERS. 

day  she  wanted  you  and  your  wife  to  come 
to  our  house  to  tea.  What's  the  reason 
you  can't  come  over  next  week  some  day 
and  see  us?  We  will  get  some  of  the 
neighbors  in,  and  then  we  can  have  some 
more  talk  about  this  matter,  which,  I  tell 
you,  is  a  very  serious  business." 

Mr.  Gridley  agreed  upon  a  day,  and 
bidding  his  friend  "  good  day,"  drove  home 
with  more  of  the  devil  in  him  than  he  had 
felt  in  a  year.  He  hated  his  minister,  and 
he  had  found  somebody  who  sympathized 
with  him  in  his  wickedness,  and  this  eased 
his  conscience  and  deepened  his  guilt.  It 
is  a  long  step  down  hill,  when  a  man  con- 
vinces himself  that  he  is  doing  God  service 
in  sin,  or  that  others  think  he  is. 

The  next  week  a  party  of  disaffected 
ones,  with  their  wives,  talked  of  the  matter 
over  a  cup  of  green  tea  at  Mr.  Vinton's,  and 
when  they  separated  it  was  with  the  very 
general  determination  that  Mr.  Rogers  ought 
to  be  dismissed,  though  for  what  cause  there 
was  not  one  of  them  able  to  say.     Not  a 


THE   DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS.  221 

wrong  had  he  done  one  of  them  ;  not  a 
sHght  had  he  put  upon  one  of  them  or  their 
children ;  he  had  visited  them  as  often  as 
he  could  consistently,  though  of  course  not 
as  often  as  they  would  like  to  have  him — 
and  what  minister  ever  did  ?  and  if  it  had 
been  put  to  them  to  name  any  respectable 
ground  of  complaint  against  the  pastor,  they 
w^ould  have  been  dumb.  But  the  people 
(they  pretended  to  themselves)  are  getting 
tired  of  hitn  ;  and  what  is  the  use  of  a  min- 
ister's staying  among  a  people  after  they 
are  tired  of  hearing  him  preach?  It's  a 
great  deal  better  for  him  to  go  somewhere 
else,  and  for  them  to  have  somebody  else ; 
both  will  be  better  off;  and  it's  a  great  pity 
Mr.  Rogers  can't  see  it  just  as  we  do. 

In  this  way  the  little  clique  of  malcon- 
tents deceived  themselves,  and  then  set 
about  deceiving  others.  In  various  parts 
of  the  congregation,  and  on  every  favorable 
occasion,  they  would  drop  remarks,  the 
purport  of  which  would  be,  to  develop  or 
implant  a  feeling  of  unkindness  toward  Mr. 
19* 


223  THE    DISMISSAL    OF   MR.    ROGERS. 

Rogers  ;  thus  pursuing  a  systematic  and 
steady  course  of  factious  opposition,  with- 
out the  least  ground  for  it,  in  truth  or  rea- 
son. Oftentimes  we  see  the  same  course 
taken  to  get  rid  of  a  minister,  when  the  only 
crime  or  rock  of  offence  which  can  be  laid 
against  him,  is  that  he  is  growing  old. 

*'  Is  he  not  a  good  man?" 

Oh,  yes,  he  is  one  of  the  best  men  that 
ever  lived. 

"  Is  he  not  faithful  to  the  people  of  his 
charge  ?" 

Never  was  a  shepherd  more  devoted, 
self-denying,  and  persevering. 

"  Are  not  his  sermons  sound  and  valua- 
ble, spiritual  and  edifying  ?" 

He  is  one  of  the  best  preachers  in  the 
whole  region  of  country. 

"  Are  not  souls  converted,  and  is  not  the 
church  strengthened  under  his  ministry?" 

Yes,  hundreds  have  been  added  to  the 
church  while  he  has  been  the  pastor,  and 
the  truth  can  not  be  denied  that  we  never 
had  a  man   here  who  has  been  more  sue- 


THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS.  223 

cessful  than  he  as  a  minister  ;  but  his  use- 
fulness seems  to  be  at  an  end  ;  we  have  had 
no  revival  now  for  three  or  four  years  ;  he 
is  getting  dull  and  heavy,  and  the  young 
people  are  not  as  well  pleased  with  him  as 
they  should  be,  and  on  the  whole  we  think 
it  would  be  better  for  him  and  better  for 
us  that  he  should  retire. 

*'  But  where  shall  he  go  ?  if  he  is  too  old 
to  please  you  who  have  known  and  loved 
him  so  many  years,  is  it  to  be  supposed 
that  he  will  be  acceptable  to  a  iiew  people, 
who  have  had  no  previous  attachments  for 
him  ?  will  you  turn  him  out,  like  a  broken- 
down  horse,  to  die  by  the  way-side?" 

There  is  no  reply  to  this  question.  One 
of  the  wickedest  cruelties  ever  perpetrated 
by  a  Christian  people  is  this  expulsion  of  a 
pastor  because  he  is  growing  old.  It  is  a 
common  affair  among  the  Hindoos,  when 
their  parents  have  become  so  old  as  to  be 
infirm  and  helpless,  to  take  them  to  the 
river-side,  and  leave  them  to  perish,  and 
sometimes  in  kindness  they  fill  their  throats 


224  THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS. 

with  mud,  and  put  them  speedily  out  of 
misery.  This  is  called  heathenism. 
But  when  a  congregation  has  had  a  faithful 
pastor,  who  has  spent  the  youth,  and 
prime,  and  strength  of  his  life,  in  their  ser- 
vice, employing  his  talents,  which  in  anoth- 
er sphere  would  have  made  him  indepen- 
dent, but  in  this  have  brought  him  no  prop- 
erty to  live  on  in  his  old  age  ;  I  say,  when  a 
congregation  drive  away  such  a  pastor  and  let 
him  spend  his  old  age  in  want  or  in  anxious 
dependence  on  those  who  can  ill  afford  to 
sustain  him,  the  cruelty,  inhumanity,  and 
shame  of  the  deed  are  not  less  offensive  to 
God  than  the  conduct  of  the  poor  heathen, 
who  are  *'  without  natural  affection,"  be- 
cause they  are  without  the  gospel  which 
this  Christian  people  have  enjoyed,  and 
w^hose  minister  they  turn  away,  when  the 
blossoms  of  the  grave  begin  to  whiten  on 
his  venerable  brow. 

But  it  was  not  old  age  that  could  be  laid 
to  the  charge  of  Mr.  Rogers.  He  was  in 
the  vigor  of  life,  perhaps  forty-five  years 


THE   DISMISSAL   OF   MR.   ROGERS.  225 

old,  when  the  conspiracy  was  formed  to 
eject  him  from  the  parish.  He  was  as  ac- 
tive, energetic,  sound,  discriminating,  clear, 
and  powerful,  in  his  sermons  as  ever,  and 
as  strong  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  as  at 
any  previous  period  of  his  residence  among 
them.  And  this  the  plotters  found  to  their 
cost  the  moment  they  began  to  move. 
They  commenced  their  operations  by  gen- 
tly sounding  this  and  that  one,  as  occasion 
presented  itself,  to  find  on  whom  they  could 
count  when  the  time  for  open  action  should 
arrive.  But  it  was  wonderful  to  see  what 
a  storm  they  raised  at  the  very  onset  of 
their  underground  career.  The  old  elders 
rallied  around  their  pastor  as  if  he  had  been 
their  father  instead  of  being  younger  than 
most  of  them ;  and  all  through  the  congre- 
gation, as  soon  as  it  was  known  that  there 
was  a  plan  on  foot  to  dismiss  Mr.  Rogers, 
his  friends  rose  in  such  numbers  and 
strength,  and  their  devotion  was  manifested 
by  such  substantial  evidences  of  sincerity, 
that  it  really  seemed  as  if  he  ought  to  be 


226  THE   DISMISSAL   OF   MR.   ROGERS. 

thankful  to  his  enemies  for  waking  up  his 
friends.  But  there  were  not  a  few  who  had 
found  Mr.  Rogers's  strong  doctrines  and 
rigid  views  of  Christian  duty  irksome;  some 
had  never  forgotten  hard  feehngs  that  were 
awakened  when  he  crushed  the  opposition 
in  the  time  of  the  singing-school  snarl ; 
some  had  views  of  liberty  for  young  people 
in  the  way  of  dancing,  and  the  like,  that 
were  not  approved  by  Mr.  Rogers,  and 
which  they  could  never  gratify  while  his 
overshadowing  influence  was  felt,  and  they 
were  willing  to  join  with  the  party  who 
thought  it  expedient  for  Mr.  R.  to  leave. 

However  it  would  please  me  to  followr 
these  men  in  their  manoeuvres,  step  by  step, 
and  expose  the  little  artifices  by  which  they 
sought  to  alienate  the  hearts  of  the  congre- 
gation, it  will  lead  me  into  a  longer  chapter 
than  I  could  give,  and  1  must  content  my- 
self with  merely  stating  the  results.  After 
the  work  of  undermining  had  gone  on  for 
six  months,  it  was  thought  that  the  time 
had  come  for  a  public  meeting,  to  take  into 


THE    DISMISSAL    OF    MR.   ROGERS.  227 

consideration  the  state  of  the  congregation. 
This  was  resolved  upon,  after  no  Httle  fear 
and  trembling  on  the  part  of  the  conspira- 
tors, and  accordingly  the  people  assembled 
by  notice  on  the  sabbath-day.  On  the  day 
appointed  there  was  a  large  attendance  of 
the  congregation  ;  many  who  for  years  had 
retired  from  active  service  in  the  church 
were  constrained  by  a  strong  sense  of  duty 
to  be  on  the  ground,  to  do  their  part  in  the 
hour  of  trial ;  and  to  show  by  their  votes 
and  voices  that  they  were  the  friends  of 
their  friend.  The  subject  was  then  mature- 
ly discussed,  and  the  question  proposed  for 
decision  whether  or  not  it  was  expedient 
that  the  relation  between  Mr.  Rogers  and 
his  people  should  be  dissolved.  When  a 
vote  was  taken  it  was  found  that  an  over- 
whelming majority  were  in  favor  of  Mr. 
Rogers ;  especially  was  this  true  of  the 
members  of  the  church  as  distinct  from  the 
members  of  the  congregation,  or  those  not 
professors  of  religion.  The  piety  of  the 
people  was  with  the  pastor.     Never  was  a 


228  THE   DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS. 

clearer  fact.  The  elders  of  the  church,  al- 
most to  a  man,  stood  by  him  like  pillars, 
and  wavered  not  when  the  storm  raged  the 
fiercest,  and  men's- hearts  were  failing  them 
for  fear.  Some  of  them  never  knew  till 
that  day  how  dear  their  pastor  was,  and 
they  then  resolved  that,  come  what  might, 
they  would  never  give  him  up  to  gratify  his 
enemies.  Thus  ended  the  first  meeting. 
It  strengthened  the  hands  of  Mr.^  Rogers, 
but  did  not  encouras-e  his  heart.     It  showed 

a 

him  that  he  had  the  people  on  his  side,  and 
that  he  could  not  be  overthrown  ;  but  he 
knew  enough  of  human  nature  to  under- 
stand that  his  opponents  having  now  given 
public  expression  to  their  dissatisfaction  and 
desire  of  change,  would  be  more  active, 
unscrupulous,  and  bitter,  than,  ever;  and 
consequently  that  his  situation  must  be  more 
and  more  uncomfortable.  This  he  found 
to  be  the  fact  in  his  immediate  and  ultimate 
experience.  His  words  and  actions  were 
misconstrued  and  misrepresented  ;  his  mo- 
tives were  often  impugned ;  his  good  was 


THE    DISMISSAL    OF   MR.    ROGERS.  229 

evil  spoken  of;  his  very  looks  and  motions 
were  watched  and  made  the  theme  of  un- 
generous remark ;  he  was  charged  with 
visiting  at  this  house  more  than  at  that ;  of 
showing  his  partiality  in  various  ways,  as 
if  it  were  a  crime  in  him  to  love  the  society 
of  his  friends  more  than  that  of  his  foes ; 
and  thus  watched  by  such  eyes  with  such 
spectacles,  it  is  not  strange  that  every  week 
furnished  some  new  theme  for  scandal,  or 
that  the  ingenuity  of  enemies  should  invent 
occasion  when  none  could  be  discovered. 
This  was  not  the  state  of  things  that  the 
soul  of  Mr.  Rogers  could  dwell  in.  Provi- 
dence had  not  formed  him  for  enjoyment 
in  the  midst  of  strife,  and  he  had  aspirations 
after  usefulness  and  improvement  that  could 
not  be  realized  among  a  people  distracted 
and  contending. 

I  believe  I  have  never  mentioned  the 
scholastic  tastes  and  attainments  of  this  ex- 
cellent man,  yet  my  readers  will  not  have 
failed  to  perceive  that  he  had  a  mind  of 
high  cultivation  and  of  well-developed  and 
20 


230  THE    DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS. 

disciplined  powers.  His  early  education 
had  been  highly  finished,  and  during  the 
years  of  pastoral  duty  which  had  elapsed, 
he  had  never  suffered  his  knowledge  of 
elegant  literature  to  pass  away.  Rather  had 
he,  by  diligent  industry,  followed  the  lead- 
ings of  his  early  tastes,  and  made  progress 
in  ancient  and  modern  learning ;  so  that  it 
was  impossible  for  him  not  to  be  known 
among  his  ministerial  acquaintances  as  a 
man  of  letters.  And  as  Providence  had 
not  fashioned  him  for  dwelling  contentedly 
in  the  midst  of  turmoil  and  confusion,  so 
now  it  opened  another  door  of  usefulness 
to  which  he  was  led  by  all  the  indications 
necessary  to  make  plain  his  duty  to  enter. 
He  sought  counsel  of  his  faithful  elders, 
and  of  his  neighboring  brethren,  and  after 
much  prayer  and  consultation,  he  came  to 
the  conclusion  to  seek  a  release  from  his 
enffao-ements  to  his  flock.  It  was  a  sad 
hour  to  many  when  this  was  announced 
from  the  pulpit.  There  was  weeping  over 
all  the  church.     Those  who  had  been  in- 


THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.    ROGERS.  231 


strumental  in  bringing  about  this  result,  and 
who  had  often  expressed  a  desire  for  it  to 
come,  now  felt  that  it  was  a  solemn  business 
to  part  a  pastor  from  his  people,  and  jier- 
haps  they  should  have  to  give  an  account 
for  what  they  had  done  when  they  should 
come  to  stand  before  the  Judge  of  quick 
and  dead. 

Others,  who  had  stood  by  their  minister 
through  evil  and  good  report,  could  not  be 
reconciled  to  the  dispensation.  They  look- 
ed upon  it  as  a  triumph  of  his  enemies,  and 
said  they  knew  it  never  would  have  hap- 
pened but  for  the  opposition  that  had  been 
made,  and  they  would  not  consent  on  any 
terms  to  the  dismission.  When  the  "  op- 
position" saw  the  state  of  feeling,  they 
made  haste  to  lay  down  the  weapons  of 
their  rebellion.  They  were  willing  to  unite 
with  the  other  party  (or  rather  with  the 
people),  in  a  request  that  Mr.  Rogers  would 
reconsider  his  determination,  and  still  re- 
main with  the  congregation  where  he  had 
been  so  long  and  eminently  useful.     But 


232  THE    DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS. 

this  was  repentance  too  late.  It  is  a  dan- 
gerous experiment  for  a  pastor  to  come 
back  to  a  people  from  whom  he  has  parted 
with  divided  feelings  :  still  more  hazardous 
is  it  for  him  to  stay  after  the  opposition  is 
organized  and  a  decided  stand  assumed, 
and  he  has  once  yielded  to  its  power. 
Then  they  have  learned  their  strength , 
they  feel  that  they  can  never  enjoy  the  pas- 
tor's confidence  again,  and  of  course  they 
can  never  cordially  sustain  him.  They  are 
ready  on  the  slightest  occasion  to  make  war, 
and  nothing  can  be  looked  for  but  repeated 
contention  and  trouble.  Mr.  Rogers  knew 
all  this,  and  having  marked  out  his  line  of 
duty,  was  not  easily  to  be  tempted  to  take 
any  steps  backward.  He  told  them  plainly 
that  there  were  reasons  altogether  indepen- 
dent of  their  difficulties  why  he  should  pre- 
fer to  enter  upon  the  new  field  of  labor  that 
opened  before  him,  and  when  he  consider- 
ed the  divided  state  of  the  congregation,  he 
thought  it  for  their  interest  to  have  a  pastor 
in  whom  they  could  all  unite,  and  who 


THE   DISMISSAL   OF   MR.   ROGERS.  233 

might  be  more  useful  than  he  had  ever  been. 
He  therefore  resisted  all  their  entreaties  to 
reconsider  his  intentions,  and  announced  his 
fixed  purpose  to  bid  them  farewell. 

To  one  who  has  read  this  chapter  it  would 
be  a  curiosity  to  see  the  resolutions  which 
were  now  adopted,  unanimously,  by  the 
old  congregation,  expressive  of  their  ardent 
attachment  to  their  pastor,  their  great  regret 
in  parting  with  him,  and  their  fervent  desires 
for  his  future  happiness.  This  and  his 
farewell  sermon,  which  came  in  connexion 
with  these  resolutions,  were  the  closing 
scenes  in  this  drama,  and  Mr.  Rogers,  after 
nearly  twenty  years  of  most  unremitting 
and  laborious  service,  retired  from  the  field. 
How  many  were  the  changes  that  had  passed 
over  that  people  since  he  came  among  them  ' 
He  had  buried  nearly  one  generation ;  those 
who  were  children  when  he  came  there  had 
now  grown  to  be  the  active  members  of  the 
congregation  ;  and  many  who  were  then 
pillars  had  fallen.  It  was  a  melancholy 
duty  to  resign  such  a  charge,  but  he  had 
20* 


234  THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS. 

the  blessed  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  he 
had  delivered  his  soul  of  the  blood  of  his 
people ;  that  he  had  declared  the  whole 
counsel  of  God,  and  that  he  had  been  the 
means  of  turning  many  to  righteousness, 
whom  he  hoped  to  see  again  in  the  diadem 
of  his  Redeemer.  There  were  floods  of 
tears,  and  many  hearts  that  would,  but 
could  not,  weep  when  Mr.  Rogers  took  his 
leave-.  Those  who  had  been  converted 
under  his  preaching,  and  those  who  had 
grown  up  with  him,  and  in  fact  it  was  hard 
to  say  which  class  more  than  another,  clung 
to  him  as  to  a  dying  father,  when  the  time 
of  final  separation  came.  Such  ties  ought 
never  to  be  sundered.  The  pastoral  rela- 
tion, like  the  marriage  bond,  should  bind 
till  death  doth  part.  Unfaithfulness  on  the 
part  of  the  pastor  or  people  may  render  a 
divorce  expedient  and  justifiable,  but  the 
unfaithfulness  is  criminal,  and  great  is  the 
responsibility  which  they  incur  who  stir  up 
strife  in  a  happy  and  united  congregation, 
and  render  the  removal  of  the  pastor  a  mat- 


THE  DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS.  235 

ter  of  necessity,  with  all  its  disastrous  and 
deplorable  results. 

If  we  should  follow  this  people  a  few 
years  further  on  in  their  history,  we  should 
find  the  Hving  and  terrible  consequences  of 
driving  away  a  minister.  No  sooner  had 
Mr.  Rogers  been  dismissed  than  the  people 
began  to  look  out  for  a  successor.  Two 
parties  were  formed,  mainly  divided  by  the 
same  lines  as  in  the  last  war  ;  and  the  man 
whom  one  party  took  a  fancy  to,  was  sure 
to  be  opposed  by  the  other.  And  however 
desirable  the  man  might  be  who  should 
secure  a  majority  of  voices  in  his  favor,  he 
could  not  be  expected  to  accept  a  call  in 
the  face  of  a  most  determined  and  powerful 
opposition.  The  meetings  that  were  called 
to  discuss  and  determine  the  merits  of  rival 
candidates  for  the  pulpit,  were  stormy,  and 
dreadful  in  their  influence  on  the  feelings 
of  those  engaged  in  them.  Bitter  and  last- 
ing alienations  among/rzew  J5  were  the  fruits. 
In  fact,  it  went  on  from  bad  to  worse,  until 
persons  of  the  same  family  connexion  -were 


236  THE   DISMISSAL    OF   MR.   ROGERS. 

divided,  and  unhappy  controversies  were 
engendered,  the  extent  of  which,  of  course, 
could  never  be  known.  At  last,  after  many 
trials,  a  man  was  found  who  expressed  his 
willingness  to  accept  a  call  made  out  by  a 
part  of  the  congregation,  notwithstanding  the 
protest  of  a  very  large  minority.  More 
than  half  of  the  church-members  were  op- 
posed to  his  settlement ;  nearly  the  whole 
bench  of  elders  requested  him  not  to  accept 
the  call,  and  an  earnest  written  remonstrance 
was  laid  before  the  ecclesiastical  body  that 
was  convened  to  instal  him.  But  he  had  a 
majority  of  votes  in  his  favor,  and  he  hoped 
to  overcome  the  opposition  by  fidelity  and 
wisdom.  I  cast  no  censure  on  him.  He 
meant  it  for  good,  and  doubtless  thought  it 
would  be  a  blessed  thing  to  succeed  in 
restoring  harmony  to  a  distracted  people. 
But  he  failed.  The  opposition  embarrassed 
him,  so  that  he  could  not  even  do  himself 
justice.  Sometimes  he  scarcely  knew  what 
he  was  about  when  he  went  into  the  pulpit, 
so  distressed  was  he  at  the  thought,  that  a 


THE    DIS3IISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS.  237 

large  portion  of  his  hearers  were  wishing 
•him  a  thousand  miles  away.  On  one  oc- 
casion he  gave  out  his  text  from  the  "  gos- 
pel according  to  Acts,"  and  proceeded 
with  his  sermon  without  perceiving  his 
blunder ;  a  fact  which  shows  the  confusion 
of  mind  he  often  experienced  when  coming 
before  his  people.  He  stayed  but  a  little 
while  and  left.  Then  the  battle  was  to  be 
fought  over  again.  And  stoutly  fought  it 
was.  Another  and  another  was  called,  and 
one  minister  would  stay  awhile  and  then 
quit,  and  then  another  would  try.  Some 
of  the  people  wrote  to  Mr.  Rogers  and 
begged  him  to  come  back,  assuring  him 
that  he  and  he  only  could  make  a  permanent 
peace.  He  did  return  to  labor  a  little 
season  with  them,  and  they  hung  on  his 
lips  as  if  an  angel  had  come  down  from 
heaven,  but  his  duties  would  not  suffer  him 
to  entertain  the  thought  of  again  resuming 
the  charge  of  that  once  happy  and  still  in- 
teresting people. 

Years  have  now  rolled  away,  and  God 


238  THE   DISMISSAL    OF    MR.    ROGERS. 

has  been  pleased  to  bless  them  with  faithful 
pastors,  whose  labors  have  been  attended 
with  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  wounds  of 
former  years  have  been  in  a  great  measure 
healed.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  congre- 
gation has  ever  recovered  fully  from  the 
dissensions  and  distractions  that  followed 
Mr.  Rogers's  removal,  but  many  of  the 
actors  in  those  scenes  have  passed  away, 
and  the  furrows  of  division  have  been  over- 
grown, so  that  a  stranger's  eye  would  not 
detect  the  marks  of  former  ruin.  But  God 
has  marked  them  and  will  never  forget. 
Whosoever  offends  one  of  his  people  must 
answer  for  it ;  and  the  day  of  reckoning 
hastens  on. 

And  now  I  leave  these  reminiscences  ; 
grateful  to  those  who  have  followed  me 
through,  and  far  beyond  my  original  intention, 
while  many  things  which  I  purposed  to  re- 
cord have  been  overlooked.  Mingled  mel- 
ancholy and  pleasure  have  been  mine,  as 
I  have  followed  the  wanderings  of  my  heart 
among  the  scenes  of  childhood  and  youth ; 


CONCLUSION.  239 

and  when  the  forms  of  those  dear  to  me  then 
have  returned,  it  has  been  with  a  sadness 
that  I  can  hardly  dare  to  speak  of  here  ;  so 
many  of  them  are  gone,  to  come  back  never. 
I  must  be  growing  old.  Those  who  were 
young  when  I  was  young  are  growing  old ; 
I  see  it  in  their  looks,  and  they  tell  me  so. 
It  must  be  so  with  me.  I  ought  to  know  it, 
if  it  be  true. 

"  Naught  treads  so  silent  as  the  foot  of  time, 
Hence  we  mistake  our  autumn  for  our  prime. 
'T  is  greatly  wise  to  know  before  we  're  told 
The  melancholy  truth  that  we  are  growing  old." 

Shall  I  ever  go  back  and  renew  the  as- 
sociations which  for  so  many  years  have  been 
sundered  ?  Should  I  find  many,  or  any 
there,  who  would  greet  me  as  an  ancient 
friend,  and  welcome  me  back  again  to  the 
scenes  of  earlier  days?  Ay,  well  do  I 
know  that  some  have  not  forgotten  me,  and 
I  would  love  to  meet  them  and  talk  of  days 
long  gone,  and  feel  young  again  when  the 
scenes  of  youth  were  thus  revived  on  the 
tablets  of  an  unforgetting  heart. 


240  CONCLUSION. 

But  youth  is  gone,  and  childish  things 
are  put  away.  The  stern  hand  of  duty 
urges  us  on  in  life's  great  work.  It  would 
be  vastly  pleasant  to  be  ever  young,  and 
never  feel  the  pressure  of  the  overmastering 
hand  oiduty  in  the  toils  that  manhood  brings. 
But  this  is  not  our  rest : — 

'•  There's  rest  in  heaven.    I'd  wish  to  live 
So  that  ray  tomb  might  tell, 
The  highest  praise  that  friends  could  give, 
That  I  had  labored  well." 

It  may  be,  doubtless  it  will  be,  that  those 
friends  of  my  youth  will  be  met  no  more  on 
earth,  but  there  is  joy  in  the  thought,  that 
with  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  the 
redeemed  of  the  Lord  shall  meet,  and  go 
no  more  out  for  ever.  In  that  congrega 
TiONj  kind  readers,  may  we  all  be  found ! 


THE    END. 


VALUABLE    WORKS 

RECENTLY  ISSUED 

BY    ROBERT    CARTER, 

BOOKSELLER  AND  PUBLISHER, 
58  CANAL-STREET,  NEW-YORK. 

AND  THOMAS  CARTER,  PITTSBURG,  Pa. 

THE     HISTORY     OF    THE    GREAT    RE- 
FORMATION in  Germany,  Switzerland,  &c.,  in  the  Six- 
teenth Century.     By  J.  H.  Merle  D'Aubign^,  President  of  the 
Theological  School  of  Geneva.     4th  edition  :  3  vols.  12mo. 
"  In  no  other  book  have  we  such  facts  and  anecdotes,  such  living  scenes  and 
moving  talks  of  the  glorious  reformer.    This  is  exactly  the  book  which  the 
age  requires.     It  holds  up  the  reformation  as  to  its  necessity,  its  incipient 
characteristics,  its  advancing  claims,  its  ultimate  bearings,  with  all  the  vivid- 
ness of  genius  curbed  by  a  rigfd  adherence  to  historic  truth." 

THE  NA^ORKS  OF  THOMAS  CHALMERS, 
D.D.  and  LL.D.     7  vols.  12mo.  ^ 

i/ONTENTS. — Vols.  1  and 2,  on  Natural  Theology;  3  and  4,  on  the  Miraculoru 
and  Internal  Evidences  of  Christianity  ;  5,  Moral  and  Mental  Philosophy,— 
this  volume  has  never  before  been  published  ;  6,  Commercial  Discourses,— 
one  half  of  which  is  entirely  new  ;  7,  Astronomical  Discourses, — the  on« 
half  of  which  has  never  before  been  published.    4th  uniform  edition. 

**  The  writings  of  Chalmers  are  so  well  known  and  appreciated  in  this  coun- 
try, that  it  is  needless  for  us  to  applaud  their  Merits.  This  edition,  it  should 
be  noticed,  is  not  a  reprint  of  the  author's  works  already  known  in  this  coun- 
try. His  Astronomical  and  Commercial  Discourses  have  not  only  been  care- 
fully revised,  but  nearly  doubled  in  number  by  the  addition  of  new  ones  ;  his 
Moral  Philosophy  is  entirely  new  here  ;  his  Christian  Revelation  and  Natural 
Theology  may  be  said  to  be  almost  new,  as  they  are  re-written  and  enlarged  ; 
to  that  the  whole  series  is  offered  as  having  peculiar  claims  on  the  literary  and 
religious  public." — Presbyterian. 

REV.    HUGH    WHITE'S    MEDITATIONS 

ON  PRAYER,  from  the  10th  Dublin  edition.    18mo.,  mu». 

lin.    2d  edition. 

*'  This  is  a  plain,  sensible,  and  practical  treatise,  comprising  meditations  on 
the  importance,  nature,  subject  and  spirit  of  prayer.  The  author  seems  to  be 
impressed  with  the  importance  of  his  theme,  and  communicates  his  thought*  aa 
if  he  wished  them  to  benefit.  We  like  the  spirit,  style,  and  doctrine  of  th« 
book,  and  can  therefore  recommend  it,  in  hope  it  may  teach  men  to  pray  with- 
out ceasing,  and  in  an  acceptable  manner." — Presbyterian. 

**  A  word  fitly  spoken  is  Uk«  apples  of  gold  in  delicate  frame-work  of  silTt», 
and  the  volume  before  us  has  the  qualification  of  fitness  in  relation  to  all  tha 
circumstances  of  the  age  in  which  it  is  published. 

C  H  R I  ST  O  U  R  L ANA^ .  By  Miss  Caroline  Fry,  author 
of  "  Christ  our  Example,"  the  "  Listener,"  dec.  &o.    12ma 


THE    COMPLETE    NA^ORKS   OF    BISHOP 

BUTLER,  containing  Analogy  of  Natural  and  Reveeiled  Re- 
ligion, Dissertations,  Sermons,  Correspondence  with  Dr.  Clarke, 
&c.  &c.  To  which  is  prefixed,  an  Account  of  the  Character 
and  Writings  of  the  Author.  By  Dr.  Halifax,  Bishop  of  Glou. 
cestcr.  1  vol.  8vo.  Splendid  edition  on  pica  type  and  fine 
paper. 

*'  We  think  the  religious  public  must  welcome  with  gratitude  the  appear- 
mce  of  this  volume,  containing'  the  writings  of  so  distinguished  a  logician  and 
divine.  The  Analog-y  of  Butler  enjoys  a  reputation  scarcely  second  to  any 
other  book  than  the  Bible  :  to  praise  it  would  be  a  work  of  supererogation. 
As  a  specimen  of  analogical  reasoning,  we  suppose  it  has  never  been  equalled ; 
and  its  influence,  in  promoting  ministerial  efficiency,  can  hardly  be  over-rated. 
Some  ministers  are  in  the  habit  of  reading  it,  care  full}',  once  every  year.  The 
Analogy  occupies  about  one  half  the  volume  ;  the  remainder  consists  of  Dis- 
•ertations  and  Sermons  on  important  subjects,  and  may  be  read  with  pleasure 
and  profit.  The  volume  contains  more  than  600  pages,  and  is  furnished  at  a 
very  low  price." — Xew  England  Puritan. 

'•  The  Dissertations  and  Sermons  are  distinguished  by  the  same'  greatness 
of  mind  which  spreads  its&lf  over  the  Analogy.  His  views  of  conscience,  and 
kis  illustrations  of  the  subjective  influence  of  the  love  of  God,  are  the  product 
of  deep  reflection.  He  follows  out,  with  a  cool  and  careful  hand,  the  great 
principle  of  fitness,  comparing  things  with  each  other,  and  demonstrating 
their  relative  importance,  and  the  propriety,  beauty,  and  grandeur  of  the  e«- 
sential  truths  in  morality  and  religion." — N.  Y.  Evangelist. 

JAY'S  MORNING  EXERCISES  FOR  THE 
CLOSET,  for  Every  Day  in  the  Year.  New  edition,  2  vols, 
in  one,  12mo. 

JAY'S   EVENING    EXERCISES    FOR  THE 

CLOSET,  for  Every  Day  in  the  Year.  New  edition,  2  vola 
in  one,  12ino.,  bound  uniform  with  the  3Ioming  Exercises. 

THE   ENTIRE   WORKS   OF  THE  REV.  H. 

SCOUGAL,  consisting  of"  the  Life  of  God  in  the  Soul,"  &c 
&c.     1  vol.  18mo. 

BAXTER'S  C A LLTO  THE  UNCONVERT- 
ED, to  wliicli  arc  added  '*  Now  or  Never,"  "  Fifty  Reasons," 
&c.,  with  an  Introductory  Essay  by  Thomas  Chalmers,  D.D. 
18mo. 

SORROWING  YET  REJOICING;  or,  Narra- 
tive  of  Recent  Successive  Bereavements  in  a  Clergyman's 
Family.  By  the  Rev.  Alexander  Beith,  Stirling.  4th  edition, 
32mo. 

"  It  is  written  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  and  is  pervaded  throughout  by  a 
tone  of  the  most  evangelical  devotion.  Its  tale  is  told  in  language  the  most 
■criptural  and  touching,  whilst  it  gives  an  index  to  ^he  happy  and  composed 
state  of  the  author's  own  feelmgs,  amid  the  most  trying,  and,  to  nature,  over- 
whelming bereavements.  It  is  peculiarly  valuable,  as  presenting  the  mos* 
■triking  examples  of  the  work  and  power  of  grace  on  the  youthful  and  the  in- 
fant mind,  and  the  process  by  which  Jesus  sanctifies  and  purifies  the  souls  at 
tlM  lambs  of  'lis  flock,  before  thej  are  taken  to  be  trith  him  in  glory."— Guar. 


8 

THE   LIFE,    \/VALK   AND   TRIUMPH    OF 

FAITH.    By  the  Rev.  W.  Romaine,  A.M.    12mo.   New  edi. 
tion,  muslin. 

"  Many  a  good  old  believer  will  have  his  heart  cheered  and  his  soul  comfoi*» 
•d  by  the  republication  of  this  book. — The  truth  drops  from  his  pen  like  man* 
na.  His  conceptions  are  remarkably  clear,  and  his  style  simple  and  scrip- 
•oral.  His  own  life  by  faith  enabled  him  to  write  so  well  for  the  edification 
of  others." — Baptist  Advocate. 

"  Here  are  three  distinct  treatises  on  the  lame  general  subject,  to  which 
•vangehcal  Christians  of  every  denomination,  during  nearly  three  quarters  of 
a  century,  have  united  in  awarding  the  highest  praise. — They  indicate  not 
only  a  most  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  Bible,  but  a  rare  knowledge  of  the 
workings  of  the  human  heart,  and  are  at  once  full  of  instruction,  admonition 
and  consolation.     The  most  advanced  Christian  cannot  fail  to  read  them  with 

Erofit,  and  the  young  Christian  will  find  them  among  the  safest  guides  and 
est  helps  in  the  religious  life,  which  are  to  bo  found  any  where  out  of  th« 
Bible." — Albany  Daily  Advertiser. 

THE  RETROSPECT;  or  Review  of  Providential 
Mercies,  with  Anecdotes  of  various  Characters.  By  Aliquis, 
formerly  a  Lieutenant  in  the  Royal  Navy,  and  now  a  Minister 
in  the  English  Church.  From  the  18th  London  edition  2d 
edition,  lomo. 

"  This  volume  is  one  of  uncommon  interest.  While  the  reader  is  enchained 
by  the  narrative,  which  it  full  of  incident,  in  a  style  simple  and  lively,  he  find* 
it  eminently  conducive  to  the  cultivation  of  a  devotional  spirit,  and  to  an  ad- 
miring view  of  the  methods  of  Divine  providence  and  grace.  We  remember 
this  work  a  few  years  since,  with  great  interest,  since  which  we  have  not  met 
with  it.  We  have  glanced  over  the  pages  of  this  editicn  with  renewed  great 
pleasure.  The  great  popularity  of  this  volume  app^^rs  from  the  large  number 
of  editions  through  which  it  has  passed  in  Great  Britain  in  a  short  number  of 
years,  having  now  reached  the  17th  edition,  and  proofs  of  its  usefulness  have 
not  been  wanting.  We  can  assure  our  readers  that  there  are  few  works  of 
the  kind  so  deeply  interesting,  or  so  well  adapted  to  religious  edification.  We 
cordially  recommend  it." — Christ.  Intell. 

THE  MARTYR  LAMBj  or  Christ  the  Representa- 
tive of  his  People  in  all  aores.  By  F.  W.  Krummacher,  D.D., 
author  of  "  Elijah  the  Tishbite,"  &c.     1  vol.  18mo.     3d  ed. 

"  Our  author  is  characterized  by  a  glowing  and  imaginative  style,  which 
•eems  to  be  the  expression  of  a  heart  warmed  by  piety,  and  susceptible  of  the 
tenderest  emotions.  He  displays  a  happy  tact  in  developing,  in  the  most  pleas- 
ing manner,  the  circumstances  of  a  scriptural  incident  or  character,  and  of 
deriving  from  it  practical  lessons." — Presbyterian. 

"  It  is  seldom  that  the  doctrines  of  grace  are  set  forth  in  a  more  florid  man- 
ner, than  in  this  work  of  the  excellent  Krummacher.  We  find  here  the  es- 
sence of  the  gospel  presented  to  the  mind  with  great  originality  and  warmth. 
It  is  a  book  which  we  could  freely  put  into  the  hands  of  all  Christian  readers." 
'—BiblicaZ  Repertory  and  Princeton  Review. 

THE  KEY  TO  THE  SHORTER  CATE- 
CHISM. Containing  Catechetical  Exercises,  a  Paraphrase, 
and  a  New  Series  of  Proofs  on  each  Question.  New  edition. 
ISmo 


OLD     HUMPHREY'S     OBSERVATIONS. 

3q  edition.     1  vol.  18mo. 

"  It  is  a  rare  thin<T,  in  these  book-making  days,  to  meet  with  such  aconden- 
■ation  of  truth — with  such  an  amuunt  of  wisdom  in  so  small  a  compass,  adapt* 
•d  to  men  of  all  a.ges,  conditions  and  characters,  and  fitted  to  produce  alastuaj 
impression  on  every  mind  that  conies  in  contact  with  it." — Boston  Recorder. 

*'  Short  and  readable  articles,  containing  shrewd  observations  and  ju»t  senti- 
ments."— Presbyterian. 

"  Old  Humphrey  is  a  popular  writer  in  England  ;  his  works  have  been  pub- 
lished by  the  London  Religious  Tract  Society,  and  have  been  eagerly  sought. 
The  rich  vein  of  religious  toit  that  runs  through  every  page,  and  the  strong, 
plain,  common  sense  that  attends  everything  he  utters,  commend  hii  writings 
to  the  popular  taste  ;  and  happily  please  while  they  greatly  profit  the  reader." 
—New-York  Observer. 

OLD  HUMPHREY'S  ADDRESSES.  Bythe 
author  of  "  Old  Humphrey's  Observations."     2d  edition,  18mo. 

"  It  consists  of  a  number  of  short  papers  on  a  great  variety  of  subjects, 
written  in  a  devotional  spirit,  and  with  great  sVirewdness,  good  sense,  and 
quiet  humour.  It  is,  therefore,  a  very  pleasant  book." — Biblical  Repertorj 
and  Princeton  Review. 

"  They  have  a  style  decidedly  their  own,  quaint,  pithy,  pointed,  sententl 
ous,  lively  and  popular;    but  their  chief  excellence  is  the  constant  and  su* 
cessful  effort  of  the  author  to  draw  a  moral  from  every  thing  he  meets  "  — 
New-York  Observer. 

"We  recently  noticed  Old  Humphrey's  Observations  as  a  very  entertaininj 
Tolume,  and  the  Addresses  exhibit  the  same  point,  innocent  humour,  and  sound 
instruction.  We  can  give  our  readers  no  general  idea  of  the  contents  where 
Ihere  is  so  much  variety,  but  advise  them  to  buy  and  read." — Presbyterian. 

COMFORT   IN   AFFLIOTION  :    A  Series  of  Me- 
>   ditations.     By  the  Rev.  James  Buchanan,  one  of  the  Ministers 

of  the  High  Church,  Edinburgh.     From  the  9th  Edinburgh 

edition.     1  vol.  18mo. 

"  The  blessed  results  of  affliction  are  treated  with  peculiar  force  of  argu- 
ment, and  felicity  of  expression — strong  in  scriptural  statements  of  divine 
truth,  and  rich  in  scriptural  sources  of  divine  consolation — in  a  most  valuable 
work,  entitled  '  Comfort  in  Affliction,^  by  the  Rev.  James  Buchanan, — which 
I  would  affectionately  recommend  to  every  Christian  mourner  who  desires  to 
drink  freely  of  the  refreshing  streams  which  the  Fountain  of  all  Comfort — the 
Word  of  God,  supplies  ;  for  it  is  from  this  sacred  source  the  pious  and  talent- 
ad  author  of  this  excellent  work  derives  '  Comfort  in  Affliction,'  which  his 
pages  so  eloquently  and  attractively  set  forth." — Rev.  Hugh  White  of  Dublin. 

LIVE  NA^HILE  YOU  LIVE.  By  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Griffith,  A.M.,  Minister  of  Ram's  Episcopal  Chapel,  Homer- 
ton.     18mo. 

"  We  never  heard  before  of  the  author  of  this  little  book,  but  we  expect  to 
hear  of  him  again,  as  we  cannot  believe  that  such  a  pen  as  he  holds  will  ht 
suffered  to  remain  unemployed.  The  work  is  divided  into  five  chapters — 
*Life  a  Pilgrimage,'  'Life  a  Race,'  '  Life  a  Conflict,'  '  Life  a  Blessing,'  'Life 
a  seed  time  for  Eternity.'  Not  only  is  the  general  conception  of  the  work 
exceedingly  happy,  being  somewhat  of  that  pithy  and  striking  character  for 
■which  Jay^s  writings  are  so  remarkable,  but  the  whole  train  of  thought  is  ia 
beautiful  harmony  with  the  plan  ;  the  style  ishighly  polished,  the  spirit  deep- 
ly evangelical,  and  the  tendency  quickening,  elevating,  comforting.  It  may 
very  profitably  occupy  an  hour  or  two  of  any  person's  leisure,  who  reads  for 
the  gratification  of  a  refined  taste,  for  the  cultivation  of  a  religious  sensibility, 
jr  for  ixnprovemcBt  in  the  Christian  life." — Albany  Daily  Advertiser. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  MICHAEL  KEMP, 
THE  HAPPY  FARMER'S  LAD.  A  Tale  of  Rustic  Life, 
illustrative  of  the  Spiritual  Blessings  and  Temporal  Advantage* 
of  Early  Piety.     By  Anne  WoodroofFe.     2d  edition.    18mo. 

"  A  capital  story  is  here  told  ;  a  tale  of  rustic  life,  illustrating  the  profit  of 
godliness  for  this  life  and  that  to  come.  We  have  been  reading  it  with  deep 
interest,  and  commend  it  cordially." — New-York  Observer. 

"  Thoroughly  and  intently  have  we  read  this  book,  '  because,'  as  Talbot 
■aid  of  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson,  '  we  couldn't  help  it.'  We  were  struck 
■with  the  ingenuous  disposition  and  firm  principles  of  Michael,  and  we  wished 
to  see  how  they  would  bear  him  through  trying  scenes.  In  other  words,  our 
feelings  became  so  intently  but  agreeably  absorbed,  that  we  not  only  traced 
Michael  through  a  book  of  250  pages,  but  if  there  had  been  one  or  two  mora 
Tolumes  we  fear  that  we  would  have  perused  them.  So  much  for  the  inter- 
est which  the  story  excites ;  the  other  merits  of  the  book  are  not  inferior."— 
Baptist  Advocate. 

THE  CROOK  IN  THE  LOT;  or  a  Display  of  the 
Sovereignty  and  Wisdom  of  God  in  the  Afflictions  of  Men, 
and  the  Christian's  deportment  under  them.  By  the  Rer. 
Thomas  Boston.     18mo. 

*'  Boston  is  well  known  as  one  of  the  strongest  Calvinistic  writers,  and  tha 
Tolume  before  us  bears  the  marks  of  his  vigorous  mind,  and  the  fruits  of  hit 
deep  and  evangelical  piety.  It  is  accompanied  by  a  warm  recommendatio« 
from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Alexander,  Princeton." — New-York  Observer. 

A  TRIBUTE  OF  PARENTAL  AFFECT  ION 

to  the  Memory  of  my  beloved  and  only  Daughter,  Hanneih 
Jerram,  with  a  short  account  of  the  last  Uhiess  and  death  of  het 
elder  Brother,  Charles  Stranger  Jerram.  By  the  Rev.  Cheurlea 
Jerram,  A.M.,  Vicar  of  Chatham,  Surrey.  From  the  5th  Lon- 
don edition.     18mo. 

*'  This  book  is  a  delineation  of  the  effects  of  early  and  eminent  piety,  dra^m 
by  a  parent's  hand,  with  all  the  tenderness  of  yearning  solicitude.  This  cir- 
cumstance commends  it  at  once  to  our  sympathies,  and  is  also,  to  some  extent, 
ft  guaranty  of  real  value." — Christian  Watchman. 

"  We  regard  this  little  book  with  much  favour.  The  dying  scene  is  moit 
feelingly  portrayed,  and  -the  reader,  if  his  better  sensibilities  be  not  blunttd, 
irill  be  constrained  to  weep  with  those  that  weep." — Presbyterian. 

D  E  C  A  P  O  L I  S  ;  or,  the  Individual  Obligations  of  Christiana 
to  Save  Souls  from  Death.  By  David  Everard  Ford.  From 
the  6th  London  edition. 

'*  This  book  is  an  exhortation  to  Christians,  and  Christian  ministers,  to  ex- 
ercise greater  faithfulness  in  saving  souls  from  eternal  death.  We  have  read 
it  with  much  pleasure,  and  we  hope  with  some  profit.  It  is  adapted  to  the 
age  in  which  we  live — an  age  in  which,  with  the  bustle,  excitement,  and 
worldliness  surrounding  us,  the  Christian  needs  something  to  direct  his  atten- 
tion to  those  subjects  which  will  add  to  the  lustre  of  his  crown  of  rejoicing  ia 
the  kingdom  of  glory.  And  what  is  there  so  well  calculated  to  do  this  as  a 
consciousness  that  we  are  co-operating  with  the  Saviour  of  sinners  in  redeem- 
ing a  world  lying  in  wickedness  ?  The  book  is  most  beautifully  got  up  ;  and 
we  could  wish  that  it  might  be  read  and  pondered  by  every  one  who  indulges 
a  hope  that  he  is  a  Christian." — New- York  Evangelist, 


9 
MEMOIR.  OF  THE.  REV.  CH  A  R  LES  .N  ISBET,  D.D. 

late  President   of  Dickinson  College,  Carlisle,       By  Samuel 

Miller,  D.D.,  Professor  in  the  Theoloorical  Seminary,  Pri«ce- 

ton,  New-Jersey.     1  vol.  12mo.,  with  Portrait. 

*' We  have  been  much  gratified  at  the  appearance  of  this  work.  It  forms  a 
Bioft  valuable  addition  to  the  Presbyterian  Biography  of  our  country.  Dr. 
Nisbet  distinguished  alike  by  his  own  personal  acquirements  in  literature, 
»nd  his  devotion  to  the  cause  of  sound  learning',  was  deserving  of  a  lasting  re* 
membrance  ;  and  yet  few  had  the  opjiortunity  of  knowing  much  of  his  true 
character  and  services,  until  the  appearance  of  this  interesting  memoir.  Th« 
fidelity  and  excellence  with  wliioh  the  work  is  executed,  may  be  concluded 
from  the  name  of  the  biographer." — Presbyterian. 

LIFE    AND   DEATH    OF   REV.    JOSEPH    ALLEINE. 

A.B.,  author  of  an  "  Alarm  to  the  Unconverted,"  «fcc.  Writ- 
ten by  Rev.  Richard  Baxter,  his  widow,  Mrs.  Theodosia  AI 
leine,  and  other  persons.  To  which  are  added  liis  Christian 
Lectures,  full  of  Spiritual  Instruction,  tending  to  the  promoting 
of  the  Power  of  Godliness  both  in  Persons  and  Families. 
With  a  recommendatory  Preface  by  Alexander  DufF,  D.D., 
one  of  the  Church  of  Scotland's  Missionaries  to  India.  1  vol. 
12mo. 

MEMOIR  OF  MRS.  MARY  LUNDIE  DUNCANj 
being  Recollections  of  a  Daughter,  by  her  Mother.  From 
the  2d  Edinburgh  edition.     12mo. 

*'  Deeply  interested  have  we  been  in  this  memoir  of  one  of  the  most  lovely 
of  her  sex — a  woman  whom  God  had  adorned  with  all  that  comeliness  of  per- 
•on,  richness  of  intellect,  sweetness  of  disposition,  and  above  all,  with  thoso 
Christian  graces,  which,  when  blended  in  harmonious  proportions,  form  the 
most  lovely  object  of  coiiteinplatiim  out  of  heaven.  Something  must  be  allow- 
ed for  the  partiality  of  a  mother's  love  aiid  a  hu.sband's  devotion,  but  beyond 
the  testimony  of  these  interested  witnesses,  we  have  here  the  evidence  in  her 
own  walk  and  conversation,  in  her  life  and  writings,  and  in  the  letters  of 
others  whose  happiness  it  was  to  know  her  ere  she  left  this  for  a  more  conge- 
nial world,  that  Mary  Lundie  Duncan  was  all  that  parental,  filial  or  conjugal 
affection  could  desire  ma  daughter,  mother  or  wife." — New- York  Of/server. 

THE  JUBILEE  MEMORIAL,  being  the  Sermons,  Meet. 
ings,  Presentations,  and  full  account  of  the  Jubilee  commemo- 
rating the  Rev.  Wm.  Jay's  Fifty  Years'  Ministry  at  Argyle 
Chapel,  Bath. 

"  The  name  of  liev.  Wm.  Jay  is  very  precious  to  thousands  in  this  countrf 
a*  well  as  in  Euglaml.  Some  of  his  children  and  grand-children  are  here. 
And  ho  ha«,  doubtleia,  mU  a  few  spiritual  children  among  us.  It  is  well, 
therefore,  lo  reput)Iish,  fonlieir  gratifiuatmn,  a  '  memorial'  that  has  excited  a 
deep  sen«»tii>n  on  the  otlier  side  of  the  Atlantic, — it  is  too  full  of  instruction 
to  be  lost,  on  any  one  who  shall  even  glance  at  its  pages.  It  would  give  mm 
pleasure  to  indicate  some  of  these  instructions,  and  dwell  on  the  joyous  spec- 
tacle of  a  pastor  reposing  sweetly  on  the  aflfections  of  his  flock,  after  having' 
led  them  for  fifty  years  m  green  pastures  and  beside  still  waters — but  it  is  un- 
necessary. We  trust  that  many  will  read  and  understand,  and  derive  abun- 
dant profit  from  the  example  thus  furnished,  of  niinisterial  fidelity  and  its 
earthly  rewarJa." — Boston  Recorder. 


9 
VTORKS 

BY  REV.  J.  A.  CLARK,  D.  D. 

RECTOR  OF  ST.  ANDREW'S  CHURCH, 
PHILADELPHIA. 


I. 

A  WALK  ABOUT  ZION.    Revised  and  Enlarged.     Fifth  edi- 

tion ;  l2mo.  2  steel  engravings. 

"  The  spirit  of  the  book  is  above  all  price.  It  is  that  charity  which  en* 
vieth  not,  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up.  No  intelligent  man  will  be 
disposed  to  deny  that  the  arrogant  principle  of  Puseyism  has  extensively 
infected  the  Episcopal  Church  in  Great  Britain  and  this  country.  When, 
therefore,  we  find  a  writer  of  that  communion  who  is  not  in  the  least  a£ 
fected  by  it,  but  who  utters  in  Christian  meekness  and  simplicity,  senti* 
ments  becoming  the  liberal  philosopher  and  the  humble  minded  believer  in 
Jesus,  our  heart  yearns  the  more  towards  him  on  account  of  the  strong  ad- 
verse influence,  which,  we  know,  he  is  obliged  constantly  to  resist." — Bap- 
tist Advocate. 

II. 

THE  PASTOR'S  TESTIMONY.   Fifth  edition;  l2mo.    Revised 

and  corrected  ;  2  steel  engravings. 

*'We  admire  the  spirit  and  sentiments  of  the  author  on  all  practical 
points  of  religion  " — Presbyterian. 

"  Mr.  Clarke  is  an  eminently  evangelical  writer  of  the  Protestant  Episco 
pal  Church,  and  his  productions  have  been  extensively  read  by  other  d^ 
nominations." — New  York  Observer. 

III. 

THE  YOUNG  DISCIPLE;  or  a  MemourofAnggonettaR.  Peters. 

Fourth  edition ;  l2mo. 

"  Dr.  Clarke  has  for  some  time  been  known  to  the  religious  public,  as  one 
of  the  most  judicious  and  excellent  writers  of  the  day.  His  works  are  all 
characterized  by  good  thoughts  expressed  in  a  graceful  and  appropriate 
manner,  by  great  seriousness  and  unction,  and  an  earnest  desire  to  promote 
the  spiritual  interests  of  his  fellow  men." — Albany  Daily  Advertiser. 

IV. 

GATHERED  FRAGMENTS.    Fourth  eaition;    l2mo.     2  steel 

engravings. 
Containing— The  M'Ellen  Family.— The  Paralytic— The  Withered  Branch 

Revived.— The  Baptism.— Little  Ann.— The  Meeting  of  the  Travellers.—- 

Mary  Maywood. — ^A  Family  in  Eternity. — One  whose  Record  is  on  High) 

&c.  &c. 

V. 

GLEANINGS    BY  THE   WAY;   or  Travels  in  the  Country. 
1  vol. ;  12mo. 


10 

ANECDOTES  ILLUSTRATIVE  OF  THE  SHORTER  CATE- 
CHISM. By  John  Whitecross,  Edinburgh.  New  edition; 
l8mo. 

•'  We  admire  the  plan  of  this  work,  which  is  by  striking  anecdotes,  to  il- 
lustrate and  enforce  the  answers  to  the  questions  of  that  invaluable  com* 
pend,  the  Shorter  Catechism."— £os/on  Recorder. 

"The  author  of  this  work  has  been  alike  original  in  its  conception  and 
•uccessful  in  its  execution.  The  anecdotes  are  generally  selected  with 
great  good  taste  and  good  judgment,  and  are  admirably  fitted  to  impress 
the  truths  which  they  are  designed  to  illustrate.  This  will  relieve  the  cate- 
chism of  a  difficulty  which  many  have  felt  in  respect  to  it — that  it  is  too 
abstract  to  be  comprehended  by  the  mind  of  a  child :  here  every  truth  is 
»een  in  its  practical  relations,  and  becomes  associated  in  the  mind  with 
some  interesting  fact  which  is  fitted  at  once  to  make  it  plain  to  the  under- 
standing, to  lodge  it  in  the  memory,  and  to  impress  it  upon  the  heart."— 
Albany  Daily  Advertiser. 

THE  SINNER'S  FRIEND.  From  the  87th  London  edition,  com- 
pleting upwards  of  half  a  million. 

"This  attle  volume  contains  a  series  of  short,  earnest,  and  impressive 
appeals,  addressed  to  the  conscience  of  the  sinner,  to  persuade  him  to  be 
reconciled  to  God.  It  appears  to  us  well  adapted  for  general  circulation, 
especially  in  seasons  of  inquiry.  There  is  perhaps  no  work  of  the  kind 
more  popular,  or  more  extensively  read.  It  is  stated  that  the  work  has 
been  published  in  sixteen  different  languages,  and  that  more  than  five  hun- 
dred mousand  copies  have  been  circulated,  mostly  in  the  different  countries 
of  Europe." — Christian  Observer. 

"  It  is  designed  by  its  direct  appeals  to  arrest  the  attention  of  the  most 
careless  reader,  and  to  pour  into  his  ear  some  word  of  truth  before  he  cau 
become  fatigued  with  reading." — Presbyterian. 

"  It  is  fitted  to  be  an  admirable  auxiliary  to  ministers  in  the  discharge  of 
their  duty." — Albany  Daily  Advertiser, 

NEW  WORK  BY  OLD  HUMPHREY.  THOUGHTS  FOR  THE 

THOUGHTFUL.  By  the  author  of  "Old  Humphrey's 
Observations,"  and  "Old  Humphrey's  Addresses."  1  vol. 
18mo.     Uniform  with  the  former  works. 

'"Old  Humphrey'  is  known  as  the  personification  of  an  old  man,  who 
has  not  only  had  his  eyes  open  in  his  journey  through  life,  but  has  act- 
ually seen  many  things  that  escape  the  observation  of  others,  from  which 
he  has  gathered  lessons  of  wisdom  for  the  instruction  of  those  who  follow 
them.  His  style  and  manner  are  well  adapted  to  interest  the  reader.  He 
never  speaks  without  thinking,  and  having  something  to  say." — Christian 
Observer. 

"  We  most  cordially  reccommend  Old  Humphrey  as  a  charming  domes- 
tic companion;  assuring  our  friends  that  there  is  not  a  family  in  the  Re- 
public but  may  save  in  one  day,  by  following  his  advice,  more  than  the  cost 
of  his  volumes." — National  Intelligencer. 

LUCILLA;  or  the  Reading  of  the  Bible.     By  Adolphe  Monod, 

1  vol.  l8mo. 

"  This  is  the  producti-'n  of  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  living 
Protestant  ministers  of  France.  The  style  has  all  the  sprightliness  and 
vivacity  of  the  French  ;  and  we  doubt  not  that  the  work  will  have  an  exten- 
sive circulation  in  this  countr)  " — N.  E-  Puritan. 

"  Its  design  is  to  prove  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  are  inspired  of  God,  and 
that  it  is  the  privilege  and  duty  of  «.U  people  to  read  them  with  a  referenc* 


11 

to  their  personal  salvation.  The  work  is  ably  written,  and  impressed 
throughout  with  the  kind,  earnest,  and  benevolent  spirit  of  the  author."— 
Christian  Observer. 

"  We  venture  to  say  that  it  contains  one  of  the  most  acute,  philosophical, 
and  conclusive  arguments  in  favor  of  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
of  the  importance  of  their  universal  circulation,  to  be  found  in  any  lan- 
guage. Fart  of  the  book  is  in  the  form  of  dialogue,  and  part  of  it  in  the 
form  of  epistolary  correspondence ;  and  while  the  argument  is  conducted 
on  both  Slides  with  great  ability,  the  skeptic  is  finally  confounded,  not  be- 
cause he  appears  as  the  weaker  man,  but  because  he  lias  the  weaker  cause. 
We  would  say  to  any  who  b^ve  doubts  in  respect  to  the  truth  of  Christian- 
ity, that  they  will  do  themselves  great  injustice,  if  they  cherish  those  doubts 
or  allow  them  to  settle  into  unbelief,  without  having  given  this  book  a 
careful  perusal.  If  we  mistake  not,  they  will  hnd  that  the  skeptic  has  here 
been  allowed  to  make  the  very  best  of  his  case,  while  yet,  after  all,  he  has 
been  compelled  to  abandon  iX."— Albany  Daily  Advertiser. 

THE  BRITISH  PULPIT.  Consisting  of  Discourses  by  the  most 
eminent  living  Divines  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland: 
accompanied  °with  Pulpit  Sketches.  To  which  are  added, 
Scriptural  Illustrations  ;  and  selections  on  the  Office,  Duties, 
and  Responsibilities  of  the  Christian  Ministry.  By  the  Rev. 
W.  Suddards,  Rector  of  Grace  Church,  Philadelphia.  Fifth 
edition.    2  vols.  8vo.     }0  portraits  on  steel. 

BICKERSTETH'S    TREATISE    ON    THE    LORD'S   SUPPER. 

With  an  Introduction,  Notes,  and  an  Essay.     By  G.  T.  Be- 
dell, D.  D.    5th  edition  ;  l8mo. 

MOFFATTS  SOUTHERN  AFRICA.  Missionary  Labours  and 
Scenes  in  Southern  Africa.  By  Robert  Moffat,  twenty-three 
years  an  Agent  of  the  London  Missionary  Society  in  that  con- 
tinent.    1  vol.  l2mo. 

«•  We  have  read  the  whole  of  this  large  volume  with  undiniinished  inter- 
est, and  have  found  it  replete  with  missionary  information,  given  in  an  un- 
pretending, but  strong  and  clear  style.  The  wretched  state  of  the  heathen 
tribes,  among  whom  the  writer  so  long  laboured  as  a  missionary;  their 
deep  degradation  and  ignorance ;  the  trials  of  faith  and  patience,  of  the 
missionary  brethren ;  and  after  years  of  apparently  useless  labour,  and 
when  the  churches  at  home  seemed  ready  to  abandon  the  whole  field,  the 
displays  of  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  by  his  blessing  upon  the  labours 
of  his  servants,  are  all  recorded  by  an  eye-witness,  who  bore  the  burden  and 
heat  of  the  day,  and  who  lived  to  rejoice  in  seeing  the  triumphs  of  the  Gos- 
pel, among  the  most  ignorant  and  de^aded  of  the  human  family.  The  nar- 
rative is  enriched  also  with  descriptions  of  African  scenery ;  with  the  em- 
ployment, habits,  and  pursuits  of  the  native  tribes ;  then:  dangers  from 
lions  and  other  beasts  of  prey,  and  the  wars  and  massacres  of  the  roving 
bands  of  marauders,  in  their  desolating  excursions  from  place  to  place.  — 
JToreign  Missionary 

INTERESTING  NARRATIVES  from  the  Sacred  Volume.     Illus- 
trated and  improved,  by  the  Rev.  Joseph  Belcher. 
Contents.— The    Solemn    Inquiry.— First   Murder.— Deluge.— Servant  Ex- 

felled.- Affectionate  Father  Sacrificing  his  Son.— Affecting  Funeral.— 
atriarchal   Wedding— Dutiful    Son.— Affectionate    Brother.— Faithful 
Steward.— Pious    Prisoner.— Righteoiu    Governor.— Mistaken   SamC— 


12 

I>ying  Patriarch.— Foundling. — Wise  Choice.— Blasphemer  Stoned. — 
Serpents. — Hypocritical  Prophet. — Enemy  Discovered. — Affectionate 
Daughter-in-Law. — Happy  Gleaner. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  YOUTH'S  BOOK  and  Manual  for  Young 
Communicants.     By  Rev.  W.  C,  Brownlee,  D.  D.     l2mo. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  FATHER  AT  HOME;  or  a  Manual  of  Pa- 
rental Instruction.     By  Rev,  W.  C.  Brownlee,  D.  D.     l8mo. 

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